


Kept Maddy

by AlessNox



Series: The Maddy Saga [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Assassination Attempt(s), Birthday, Class Differences, Comfort, Cooking, Explosions, F/M, Friendship, Homeless Network, Jewelry, Kissing, Mansion Fic, Politics, Romance, Sadness, Servants, Sex, Surprises, Surveillance, Tea Party, Terrorism, Truth Serum, homeless, hostage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlessNox/pseuds/AlessNox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock Holmes faked his death, he told Maddy to watch over his friend John Watson. A near impossible task for a homeless young woman, and a task that will get her noticed in ways that she never expected. Sequel to Homeless Maddy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John

For the last few years, the only constant in Maddy St. Martin's life has been change. One of those changes was losing her mother to cancer two and a half years ago. A tragedy which led, through a series of steps to her living on the streets of London. Another change was when she met Abud Mohammed and he proposed marriage to her. They were going to raise money to buy a business and get off the streets so that they could have a family, but Abud had gotten shot in the head less than a month ago and all of those dreams had fallen through. But none of the changes had been as strange or as random as when Sherlock Holmes had chosen her to be a part of his homeless network.

Today that had led her to a late night dinner with a formerly suicidal John Watson whom she had distracted on his way to throw himself into the Thames. John piled more rice onto Maddy's plate, treating her as his guest even though her clothes were dirty, and she smelled bad from too many days living rough. He talked pleasantly to her in a tone that she honestly could never remember anyone ever using with her. He talked to her like an equal. It may have been because John Watson is just that kind of man. A man who treats everyone fairly, but it was more likely that he felt that he understood her because he knew that he and Maddy had both shared loss recently. The loss of someone close to them. The loss of someone that they loved.

John Watson was grieving the loss of his flatmate, partner, and friend, Sherlock Holmes, who had thrown himself from the roof of Bart's Hospital and was considered by all including John to be dead. But Maddy had a secret. Maddy knew that Sherlock was alive, because before he had left on his quest to find those people who had threatened John and the others, Sherlock had left Maddy with a charge. He had asked her to watch over John Watson.

Maddy had tried her best, but a homeless young woman has a hard enough time taking care of herself, and her promise had fallen by the wayside. However, when Maddy had recognized John balanced on the railing of Waterloo Bridge, she had felt compelled to talk to him and to stop him from harming himself. He had turned to her, and recognizing her as another who had lost a loved one recently he had invited her to dinner at the only Chinese restaurant in this part of town that was still open at this time of night. As they sipped a cup of green tea, their stomachs full from the meal, John thanked her for the intervention.

"I don't know what came over me," John said. "It's just that sometimes his absence feels so large, as if it takes up the whole room, as if it swallows the whole world, and there seems to be no point in remaining here on this Earth that is so much less without him. Do you understand?"

Maddy nodded.

"Each day I wake up and remember anew that he's gone. So I don't want to go to sleep and have to feel that shock again. I don't want to feel that loss, but I do ... every day. Every single day."

Maddy tried to smile, but failed. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that Sherlock was alive, and that he would see him again, but she could not. She had promised that she would not tell him. So she nodded her head and listened with an open heart to his pain.

If she had not lost the phone that Sherlock had given her, she would have texted to tell him of how sad John was, of how he had almost killed himself in grief. Maybe it was better that Sherlock didn't know. Maybe it was better that the rich man with the black cars had taken the phone, because it surely would have hurt Sherlock to know how pained his friend felt.

As it was Maddy was happy that she could be here to help John, and he also was helping her. Giving her food when she was hungry. Soon the restaurant closed and the owners smiled as they shepherded them out of the door. Maddy and John stood abandoned in the stillness of the evening, unsure of where life would lead them. Then John turned and led Maddy through the quiet streets toward his flat. John opened the door to 221 Baker street and asked Maddy in, but she stayed outside, refusing to enter.

"No," She said, "I wouldn't dare impose."

"Don't be ridiculous," John said. "Where else are you going to go?"

"I suppose that I'll go back to the bridge," Maddy replied.

"Nonsense," John said. "You saved my life. I can't let you sleep under a bridge."

"I won't go alone into a man's apartment," Maddy said.

John looked genuinely shocked. "I'm not going to do anything to you," he said, "You have no place to stay, so I'm offering a place for you to stay the night. Are you refusing my hospitality? You hurt my feelings."

"I'm sorry," Maddy said. "Tonight has been hard for you. You feel generous, but tomorrow things might be different. I don't want to force you into a situation where you feel you want me to go but you are too embarrassed to ask. No, I won't stay in your flat."

Just then there was the noise of opening doors and Mrs Hudson came out. "John, are you leaving the door open? There's a draft."

"Mrs Hudson, just the woman I wanted to see," John said. "I was wondering if you would let my friend Maddy stay in room 221C for a few days."

"Oh...I..." Maddy began but John took her hand and pulled her up the step and into the house. The door shut behind her with a clap.

John put an arm around Mrs. Hudson's shoulder leading her back into the hallway. "It's only for a few days, and you know that no one lives there."

Mrs Hudson leaned over to whisper to John in a voice that nonetheless could clearly be heard by Maddy. "Dr. Watson, are you sure of what you're asking? I make my living _renting_ rooms."

"Please, I can't let her sleep on the streets. She is my friend."

Mrs Hudson pulled her robe closer around her and pursed her lips. "Well, for tonight maybe, but I am not a charity. I won't have people staying in my house without paying rent."

"Thank You Mrs. Hudson," John said kissing her on the cheek. Mrs. Hudson walked down the hall and unlocked the door to 221C . Light from a street lamp flowed in through the window of the small flat. The smell of mold filled the air. John walked across and opened the window, then he turned up the heat on the thermostat. "It's a bit stuffy, but just let it air out for a bit and it will be alright. I'll get you a pillow and some blankets."

Maddy put her bag on the floor and then sat down on the dingy carpet. This probably wasn't what Holmes had expected when he had asked her to watch over John. She listened to the sound of Mrs Hudson and John arguing in the hallway.

"Now John, I know that you have a generous heart, but we can't just go taking in people off the streets. Once you start feeding and housing street people, where will it all stop? She can stay the night, but you'll need to find some other place for her to stay tomorrow."

"But Mrs Hudson..."

"We know nothing about the girl? Is she a drug addict, a thief, how long have you known her?"

"Not long, but I will handle it. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Now don't you forget to lock your door when you go to sleep," Mrs Hudson said.

"Mrs Hudson!" he chided.

"Goodnight," she said and walked into her flat locking the door behind her.

Later John came into 221C holding three blankets, a sheet, and two pillows. "I'm sorry that I don't have a bunk, but we can fix this all tomorrow."

"John," Maddy said, "Thank you, but you don't have to feel responsible for me."

John took her hand again and smiled. "You're my friend, Maddy," he said. "It is not a burden for me to help a friend."

Maddy found her eyes tearing up. "Thank you," she said and began to arrange the blankets as John lowered the window to a crack.

"Goodnight, see you tomorrow morning," he said as he closed the door. She heard him walk up the steps to his room.

Maddy immediately thought of bolting. She could get out now while no one was watching, but the streets were cold, and this room was warm. She lay down in the blankets and covered herself up wondering what she should do next.

Planning had never been a big part of Maddy's life. She tended to plan just long enough to get to the next place. That was what had led to her living on the streets in the first place. Abud had been a planner. He could see step after step of things to do. Maddy could hardly believe that she would accomplish one step in a plan, much less a dozen. It wasn't that she had trouble thinking, Maddy was fairly smart. Confidence was her problem. She found it hard to believe that things could go well for her, so she never planned very far.

She didn't know what she was going to do with her life now that she was alone again, but she knew that it felt wrong to impose on John Watson's hospitality. He was grieving. He wanted to take care of her in order to fill the gap created by Sherlock Holmes' loss. She was like a lost kitten, and when Sherlock returned, what would happen to her then? She'd be tossed out on the street again after having felt for a time like she owned something. She didn't own anything here. She had to remember who she was, or at least who she was not. She was no relation to Dr. John Watson. She was alone in the world. If that meant she had to live on the streets because she was crap at managing her life, then so be it.

Maddy slept a good night in the small, warm, moldy apartment and woke to a knock on the door. She sat up and John Watson walked in.

"Sorry to wake you," he said, "but I have work at the surgery this morning. I thought that we could have a little breakfast together, and since you are loathe to come alone into a man's apartment, I brought breakfast to you."

John put down a tray. It had a pot of tea with two mugs, and a plate with sausages and toast piled high. Maddy smiled. She loved sausages.

"I would have made eggs, but I'm out. Forgot to buy any. I haven't been making breakfast lately, but the sausages are fresh. I bought them two days ago so no need to fear about them being off. Sorry, I don't have any milk for the tea."

Maddy sat on the floor and stuffed her face with the good food. "Thank you," she said taking a cup of tea. John Watson smiled, and Maddy smiled back, and for a few moments they were just two friends sharing a meal together. Then when the meal was over, and the plate was clean, John stood lifting the tray and heading for the door. "I'll be right back," he said.

Maddy folded the blankets turning at a knock as John entered. "I'm going to work, but I'll be back around six. Just stay here. Don't leave. I'll talk to Mrs Hudson. Believe me, everything will be alright. Well, I'm off Maddy see you later," he said.

"Goodbye John...Dr. Watson," Maddy said as he left.

Maddy sat in the room for a few hours stalling. She stared at the mold stains on the wall imagining that they formed a map of the world. She wondered where in the world Sherlock Holmes was now. Somewhere far away she was sure, because if he was here, why would he have given her such a charge? She remembered the darkened room. The sound of ventilation fans humming in the background as he talked to her. The light from the city illuminating the profile of his face.

_"I picked you, because I trust you Maddy. I trust you with my most important mission,"_ Sherlock said.

_"What mission?"_

_"To watch over John,"_ he had replied packing more emotion in his friend's name than she had ever heard him express.

If there was any way that he could stay and guard his friend himself, he would have, but he was a man committed. A man who had made a decision and he had to use the tools at his disposal no matter how poor. Maddy could stay here in this building and fulfill his wish, watching as John came and went. She could pretend to be someone that she was not, a person with a future, a person with a real life. She leaned back against the wall enjoying the warmth for the last time because she knew that she couldn't do that. She was a homeless, worthless person. This was not something that could last. John Watson would come to his senses, or Mrs. Hudson would call the police and she might be in a worse situation than she had been yesterday. She would not take advantage of John Watson's kindness. She'd find another way.

Maddy stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. She looked back at the room one more time before walking out. She nodded at Mrs Hudson who let her pass without a word as she left the flat.

Walking down the street in the morning, Maddy wondered where to go next. If she could find a good corner, she might make enough to take a train and leave central London. That would make it harder for John to find her when he came looking that evening. She was deep in thought, and so she didn't notice the black car driving slowly behind her. As she walked out of an alley she saw her, the richly dressed woman from the black car. Maddy jumped, turning behind her to see that the car door was open. Its mirrored windows reflected her fearful face.

"Miss St. Martin. This is for you." The woman said handing her an envelope. She opened it to find a white card. The front had the letters MH embossed on the surface in pearl. She opened the card and read the note written in a fine hand.

_**Dear Miss St. Martin,** _

_**I am deeply mortified by my atrocious conduct in our previous meeting, and I would like to have the opportunity to make amends. Will you please do me the honor of accepting my invitation to luncheon today so that I may apologize for my actions.** _

_**Yours Sincerely,** _

_**Mycroft Holmes** _

Maddy looked at the car and the woman and knew that one way or another he would get his meeting. She might as well get a meal out of it. Maddy climbed into the car and was whisked off to meet with Mycroft Holmes.


	2. Lunch with Mycroft

The rich woman with the perfect dark hair took Maddy into a huge bathroom with floor length mirrors and cloth handtowels. She motioned to a stall and handed Maddy some clothes: stockings, a purple dress, and matching pumps.

"Try these on," she said.

"Why do I need to change?" Maddy asked her.

"Because where we are going, they have a dress code, and trainers and t-shirts don't meet it."

Maddy changed. When she came out, the woman sat her on a bench in front of one of the large mirrors and began to brush her hair. It frizzed a bit, but with some hair spray she got it to look tolerably well although she couldn't get rid of the kink formed by her having wrapped it up tightly for so long.

The woman then took a towel, wet the edge, and washed Maddy's face. Maddy thought about objecting, but there was something about the way the woman stared at her that made her sit still. It reminded her of her elementary school teacher who would glare at her when she caught her trying to read a book under her desk during Math class.

She put on a little blush and a little lip gloss and stood back to look at her work. "For you, I think that less is more," she said and motioned for Maddy to stand. When she tried to take Maddy's bag from her, she resisted. Her clothes, her life, it was all in this bag. The woman tugged at it. "You'll get it back," she said. Just then Maddy's yellow citrine bracelet fell to the floor. She grabbed back her bag, and then bent down to pick up the bracelet shoving it onto her left wrist.

"I'm not going without my bag," Maddy said.

The woman gave a sigh and then upended her large designer purse on the counter. She took Maddy's bag and shoved it inside of her purse handing it back with an exasperated expression that only heightened Maddy's impression of her as a teacher.

The woman led Maddy out and into an elegant restaurant. They were high in a building and all around were views of the city. People in fine clothes sat chattering at tables dressed with white table cloths. The room sparkled with glass, silverware, and gold salt and pepper shakers. The blue-white sky light glittered on the crystal wine glasses. Maddy wove her way through the tables and around the glowing wooden bar, her heavy bag pounding against her thigh as she tried to remember how to walk in high-heels. She passed several empty tables and then turned a corner to see the table where Mycroft Holmes sat.

He stood and motioned for her to join him. She sat down and the woman helped her into her chair pushing it forward for her before leaving.

"I suppose that we have never been formally introduced," he said, "I know that your name is Madeline St. Martin and that you are from the United States of America. I am Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes' brother."

Maddy looked at the man in the light grey suit. He was meticulously groomed in a white shirt with a wide yellow tie. His brown hair had a widow's peak and was swept to the right in one sculpted bang. His eyebrows arched over blue eyes and a pointed nose. His thin lips turned down at the edges, their slight curve enhancing the bow of all his features. His curved ears, his curved stomach, his curved neck sticking tall out of his collar like a proud ostrich. It was the rich man from before. His lips inverted into a smile as he leaned toward her.

She had first suspected, when she saw his name on the card, that he might be related to Sherlock Holmes. She stared at him trying to see a resemblance between this man and the man in the coat. "Do you have any proof?" Maddy asked petulantly. "Show me some ID."

A frown crossed the man's face for a moment which then resumed its mildly pleasant expression. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet fat with credit cards. He slid a card across the table to her, and she read it. It said that Mycroft Holmes was a British citizen born in London, and it had a picture of his face. She looked at his birthdate. He looked older than his identification card said that he was. Perhaps it was the clothes. He dressed like a banker. Maddy passed the card back.

"Miss St. Martin," He began, "Please allow me to apologize for my previous actions. I have always been a bit over-protective of my brother, and I assumed that you were someone that you were not. Please forgive me."

Maddy looked down at the table set with white china. There were napkins folded like fans on the plates. When she looked up again, he was still staring. He seemed to be waiting for something. A ' _don't mention it_ ' perhaps? She looked into his blue-grey eyes so cold, and at the firmness of his thin lips tightly held in their false smile. He sat very still waiting, and that did remind her of the man in the coat. She could believe that he was his brother.

But she had lived on the street too long to think that being family automatically meant that you were trustworthy. She would certainly not want anyone to give information about her to her step-father simply because he was family. Maddy reached out for the napkin and placed it on her lap. Mycroft looked aside and raised his hand motioning for the waiter who filled their glasses with water and wine.

Bread was placed on the table and some small mushrooms in an orange sauce were placed in front of her. Maddy waited. Mycroft explained that they were truffles in a _velouté_ sauce then he lifted his fork and began eating. Maddy started on the bread.

"Won't you try some?" he asked.

"I don't like mushrooms," Maddy replied.

Next they had some fish with the eyes still on it. Maddy couldn't eat something that stared back at her. Luckily, they kept refilling her bread. Next they had oysters which Maddy wouldn't eat because she couldn't stand the thought of food sliding down her throat. Yuck! She tried to eat some of the salad, but the greens were too bitter, so she sucked on a lemon instead.

Next they brought out an assortment of soft French cheeses. Once Maman Mildred had brought home some Bree. She had raved about the stuff so Maddy had shoved a large chunk into her mouth as if it were pie. She had opened her mouth letting it drop down onto the floor, and Mildred had given her a good scolding. She left the cheese alone.

Next they brought out a desert with bananas. It looked promising until they set it on fire. Maddy had been in a house fire before. The smell of thick smoke made her panic and totally threw off her appetite.

Mycroft ate his _banana flambé_ with a knife and a fork. He wiped the corner of his mouth, and took a sip of a dessert wine before talking. "My dear Miss St. Martin, I appear not to have been a good host. I have offered you a six course French meal, but you have eaten only bread and water at my table. A prisoner eats better, and you haven't even had a sip of your wine."

"I don't drink," Maddy said.

"Then shall I call for tea?" Mycroft raised his hand and whispered a few words to the waiter who cleared the table.

The room was empty now as lunchtime had passed. Maddy looked out at the busy city and then over to the man who acted as if he had nowhere better to be. "Mr. ...uh ...Mr. Holmes," Maddy said. "Don't you have some kind of work that you do?"

He smiled his pleasant meaningless smile again. "I have a minor position in the British Government," he said.

"Then won't your boss mind that you're spending so much time at lunch?" The corner of his mouth fell. "Or do you even have a boss?" she asked.

Just then the tea arrived and the waiter served her tea with sugar and lemon. Mycroft had his tea with milk but no sugar.

Maddy looked up to find Mycroft's eyes on her face. She put down her tea. "What exactly is it that you want?" Maddy asked.

"I want to find my brother," Mycroft said in a surprisingly direct tone.

"Why?"

Mycroft smiled. "No, protestations that he is dead, no denials simply 'why?' Very good Miss St. Martin. I like your directness. Such directness warrants honesty in return. You see my brother is impulsive," Mycroft said sitting back and placing his fingertips together as he talked. "He tries to do things by himself that can only truly be done on a larger scale. He seeks to fight Moriarty's entire organization single-handedly like Don Quixote charging at windmills. I lost my brother once. I won't lose him again, not due to his own stupidity."

"What do you want from me?" Maddy asked.

"I want you to tell me where he is," he said, "and if that is not possible, I want you to find him for me. I would be willing to offer you a modest sum of money for this. In your case, the sum would not be modest. I suppose that you could call it 'a living'. In fact one could live quite well on what I would pay."

"What would I do?" she asked.

"You would go among your friends and contacts and ask around. Find his trail. Report back to me."

"I don't have any friends."

Mycroft put his hands down and sat up. "I don't mean _'friends'_ the way Sherlock and John Watson mean _'friends'_ as people who would take a bullet for each other. I mean _'friends_ ' the way that you and I mean _'friends'_. As people who are generally well disposed to talk. People that one can use."

"I don't think I can help you," Maddy said.

"Madeline," Mycroft said tilting his head and pinning her with his stare. "You are the last person to have seen my brother alive. You MUST help me find him."

"I don't think that I can find him," Madeline said.

"If you can not find him, perhaps he will seek to find you," Mycroft replied.

Maddy sat back in her chair and looked down at her feet in the borrowed purple shoes that somehow were exactly her size. Her toes turned in oddly and she reached out to touch the citrine bracelet as she talked. "Mr. Holmes, wait that feels wrong ... can I call you Mycroft? Sherlock Holmes is Mr. Holmes to me." Mycroft Holmes nodded although his mouth pursed as if he wanted to say no. "Mycroft," she began again, "Mr. Holmes found me on the street and paid me to do work for him. He does this all of the time to people that he meets. The fact that he paid me money doesn't mean that he cares about me, or that he would seek me out. I was just there when he needed someone. I am nobody special."

Mycroft laughed a low laugh, "Miss Madeline, you do not understand my brother. The number of people that Sherlock trusts can usually be counted on one hand. Somehow you have found your way into this number, and you say that you are ' _nobody special_ '?"

"I don't understand why you think that I can find him when you can't," Maddy said.

Mycroft glared across the table pointing at her chest. "You! Sherlock trusted you!" he said. "He left his friends and family to think that he was dead, but he gave you a phone to contact him by. Don't you think that makes you special? My brother does not make friends easily."

"I think you are wrong," Maddy said. "Among the homeless, your brother is well thought of."

"Enough of this," he said waving her objection away. "I want you to work for me, Madeline. I want you to help me find my brother."

"I can't," Maddy said. "I can't help you. I can't promise you anything."

"I thought that I had lost my only brother. You have convinced me that he is alive, and I am gratified to know that I am not alone in the world, but you are the only link that I have to him. I must insist that you help me find him."

Maddy looked at the man. He had been cold, but now he seemed warm, passionate. Even so, Maddy didn't know him. Many an abusive husband looks as passionate in search of a wife that has left him. She remembered the chill in his eyes before and she leaned away from him. "No," she said. "I won't help you. I think that I need to go now."

Mycroft rested his chin on his hands. "You know that you are in this country illegally."

Maddy froze.

"You came in on a tourist visa which has since expired. Also, there is a Jacob Bartholemew of North Carolina who claims that you stole a large sum of money from him."

"That was my mother's money!" Maddy said.

"That is decision for the American courts. I fear that if you were to leave this place and go back onto the streets, then the immigration officials might find you. That would indeed be...unfortunate."

Maddy was cornered. Mycroft crossed his fingers and gave her a Cheshire cat smile, "I'm sorry Miss St. Martin. I'm going to have to ask you to accept my hospitality for a little while longer."

Mycroft motioned, and this time it was a man who came to lead her away. She turned back to look at Mycroft. She thought that he would be gloating, triumphant that he had captured her, but his face had fallen and wrinkles of worry covered his brow as he slumped further down into his chair.

"This way please, miss." The tall man said as he motioned for her to go ahead. She walked away, not knowing where she was going or where she would end up, but then again that was no different for her than any other day.


	3. A Gilded Cage

Maddy paced around the expensive hotel room. It was a suite with a separate bedroom and bath. She peeked through the entrance and saw two men standing on either side of the door. They turned to face her, so she smiled at them and closed it with a click. The phone worked, but who would she call? If she called the police, they would simply identify her and deport her. She sat down and looked out of the window at the city below.

When Maddy was a little girl she had wanted to be a princess. Then when she was nine her mother had bought her a book about the lives of real princesses, and she had learned that real princesses were forced to marry men that they did not love, sent to places against their will for political reasons, and sometimes they were beheaded or shot. Right now Maddy felt like a real princess. Even so there was enough of the little girl in her to appreciate the wonder of this beautiful place. It was lavish with plush curtains and couches. There was a dish full of oranges on the table and a sunken bath with whirlpool sprayers. She soaked in the water for a long time wondering if she would ever in her life take such a bath again. They had also given her some clothes to wear. They looked much too formal. Even the night gown was floor length and made of satin. She put it on when she came out of the bath and tied on the silky pink robe that came with it. She felt like a forties movie star.

No one came for Maddy until seven that evening when a knock on the door revealed a man pushing a cart full of food. Seeming to have learned from the lunch fiasco, Mycroft had ordered for her a much simpler meal of a hamburger with _pommes frites_.

Sitting alone in the room was pleasant for Maddy. One would think that one was often alone living on the streets, but that was not true. One was often lonely, but there were people around every corner in this city. Finding a nook or a crevice to call your own was work. And if you could find it, someone else had probably found it first and taken exception with your being there.

Maddy lay on the bed and tried to go to sleep, but sleep eluded her. She sat up and brushed her hair. There were many toiletries in the bathroom. Maddy had already stashed soap, toilet paper, shampoo, a toothbrush and toothpaste in her pack beside the bedroom door. The brush was an unexpected coup. Probably a gift from the woman whose purse she still had. After about 200 strokes the kink in her hair from years of binding it up was finally gone and it lay around her shoulders longer than she had guessed it would be.

Her hair had been just past her ears when she had boarded that plane over a year ago with her passport and her ticket paid for by her mother's money. The money that her mother had set aside for her college fund. That man was going to take it. Mother hadn't had a will so it was going to go to him,and he had said that he would use it to buy a boat, and she could get a job and go to community college if she wanted an education. He didn't care. As it was, she hadn't gone to college or even finished high school. She had become a professional beggar who sometimes sang for her supper, but she hadn't so much as listened to music since Abud had died.

Maddy tried again to sleep on the bed, a large confection covered with a canopy that she stared at for hours until she could clearly make out its edges even in the darkened room. She listened to the quiet tick, tick, ticking of the alarm clock until she thought that it would drive her crazy. In the end she pulled the blanket around her and finally found sleep on the floor scrunched up against the wall.

She woke when a stream of sunlight struck her face and she struggled for a moment to figure out where she was. She reveled in the fact that she didn't have to wait for the stores to open to go to the bathroom. As she was washing her hands she heard a ringing noise. She walked into the main room of the suite and stared at the telephone ringing there. Was she supposed to get that? Before she could make up her mind it stopped. Then there was a knock at the door.

Maddy pulled the robe around her and walked to the door. She opened it, and a man came in wheeling a cart. He cleared the table and laid down a tablecloth before putting out a breakfast display of trays of food covered with silver lids and even a centerpiece made of fruit. It was much more than Maddy could eat even though she was still hungry.

The man left the room, and Maddy was tasting a chunk of pineapple when the phone rang again. This time, Maddy answered it.

"Hello," she said.

"Madeline, this is Mycroft. I'm on my way up. I ordered breakfast delivered. Has it arrived yet?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Good. I have some matters that I wish to discuss with you. I hope that you won't mind if I join you for breakfast."

"Uh," Maddy said.

"Thank you," Mycroft said before hanging up.

Maddy was in a panic. She didn't want to meet Mycroft Holmes in a night gown. There had been clothes in the room when she had arrived. She hadn't really looked at them. She rushed into the bedroom, opening the wardrobe and tossing clothes on the bed. All of them were excessively formal. In the end she went for a dress that she could pull on quickly. It was floor length and green. It looked like an evening gown. She pulled it on catching her hair in the zipper as she threw it on. She ran back for her bracelet placing it on her wrist just as she heard the knock at the door.

Maddy walked across the carpet barefoot stumbling a bit over the train. She put her hand on the door knob and opened it. Mycroft stood in the hallway wearing a dark grey striped suit and carrying an umbrella. His eyebrows raised as he looked at her glancing up and down with a tiny smile on his lips.

"Why good morning Madeline. You look remarkably well today," he said, "How are you feeling?"

Maddy didn't quite know what to say so she asked, "Am I really a prisoner here?"

Mycroft raised his eyebrows higher. "A prisoner. Why Madeline, whatever gave you that idea?"

"You said that I would get deported if I left."

"I most certainly did not," Mycroft replied, "In fact it is your visa that I wish to talk to you about this morning. I am working on getting you a valid one. Here is a temporary visa until a more permanent one can be arranged. Do you still have your passport?"

"No."

"Then I will contact the U.S. Embassy and see if they can get you a new one. Yours was issued when you were ten and renewed when you were fifteen I believe, so it will not run out until next year. You are nineteen aren't you?"

Maddy was surprised. Somehow she had forgotten her birthday.

"But this can all be handled later. Your breakfast is getting cold. Let me make you a plate."

Mycroft took the lids off of the dishes and began to serve Maddy.

"Too much!" She objected as he piled the plate high with Kedgeree.

"Nonsense," Mycroft said glancing down at her, "You're much too thin." He added a few pieces of fruit and passed her the plate. She took it and sat at the table beside him.

Then Mycroft took a small gold box out of his pocket and slid it across to her. Maddy looked down at the package suspiciously. This all reminded her of a war movie that she had seen about a woman and a German general. It had ended with the woman being pushed through the streets with her hair shorn off. She opened the box to find her phone. The phone that he had taken from her. She dropped her fork and typed in the password. She was surprised to find that her personalized background had returned even though she had deleted it.

She searched and found that it held all of her deleted ringtones and even the phone numbers that she had deleted had been restored.

She looked up at Mycroft. "How?" she asked.

Mycroft smiled. "Deleting things is not as final as most people think. Also, the government does have ways to discover information."

Maddy looked at the phone numbers. Angela's number was here, as well as Sherlock's old phone number. It seemed that the phone had been restored to the way it was before Sherlock's 'death'. There were some differences however. The deleted messages were gone. Only the ones that she had sent to Sherlock remained. Also John Watson's number was here as well as one labeled MH. She glanced from the phone to Mycroft. "I took the liberty of adding my own number if you don't mind," he said. He had been looking over her shoulder the entire time.

Maddy remembered getting John's number. They had been sitting on the blankets, and Maddy was leaning against the wall beginning to doze when Sherlock had asked her for her phone. He punched in a number and stared at it for a long time before pushing save.

_"Whose number is this?"_ Maddy had asked.

_"It's John's number."_ Sherlock had said.

_"So are you going to want me to call him?"_ Maddy asked.

_"No, never. You mustn't call him."_

_"Then why are you giving me the number?"_ she asked.

_"Just in case you have to,"_ Sherlock had said before turning his face away from her and lying down to sleep.

Now that she had met John, the number meant something to her too, and yet she also didn't want to call him and get him involved in her problems. Not finding any pockets in the dress, she shoved the phone down between her breasts. Mycroft gave her a strange look and then went on to finish his breakfast.

He had Maddy sign some paperwork for the visa application and then rose to leave.

"Where is the woman who I met before, I want to give her back her purse," Maddy asked.

"Don't bother," Mycroft said. "I will reimburse her. It is yours, as are any of the clothes that we have placed here for your convenience. I have rented this room for three nights, so feel free to come and go as if it is your own. We can find you more permanent accommodations when you come on payroll."

"On payroll...but..."

"Madeline, don't you know by now that I won't take _no_ for an answer? Here is my card. When you are ready to discuss the terms of your appointment call my secretary." Mycroft opened the door. The two guards were gone. He turned back and taking Maddy's hand in his, he kissed it. "It was a pleasure," he said. Then he walked down the hall toward the elevator. Maddy watched him as he left. He twirled his umbrella and flashed a smile at her before the elevator doors closed. She blushed, but no one saw except a maid pushing a cart down the hall.

Was she really free to leave? Maddy ran back inside letting the door slam behind her as she rushed into the bedroom to change. She took a quick shower and was going to put on her old clothes, but she took Mycoft at his word and put on the least conspicuous of the clothes in the flat. They were a pair of close fitting jeans and a blue and white sweater.

While searching the purse she found a hidden pocket containing a key card. She bet that this card would allow her to enter a government building, but which one? Then she looked at the business card that Mycroft had left her. It contained his address and his office number. One day, she might need this.

Maddy turned off the phone and wrapped it, the key card, and the business card in a plastic bag that had been used to hold the toiletries in the bathroom. Then she hid them in her trouser's bulky waistband. She wrapped a days worth of food in a napkin, grabbed her things, and left. She took the stairs not the elevator, and looking both ways made her way out into the street.

Maddy didn't like being caged no matter how pretty the cage was. It was nice to visit once, but now she needed to find a way far away from Sherlock's controlling brother. Madeline's feet clattered across the pavement in the purple pumps that she had decided to keep. She wasn't sure where she was going, she only knew what she was fleeing. She looked behind her often looking for tall men, beautiful women, and black cars.

She stopped to rest at a coffee shop. She asked for water and the waitress actually smiled at her as she set it down instead of complaining that only paying customers were allowed to take up tables. She dug into her bag and pulled out five pounds fifty. She put it back in her bag, and pulled a biscuit out of her food bag chewing on it as she drank her water. She went to the bathroom and left without returning to the table. It wasn't illegal though it might have been rude.

She was walking down a side street when a white van pulled up beside her. The door opened and a man grabbed her, covering her mouth with his hand. A woman stepped out of the passenger seat. Maddy recognized her as the maid in the hall at the hotel.

"Is this her? Holmes' mistress?" the man asked. The woman nodded and the man dragged her into the back of the van which drove away.


	4. Out of the frying pan

Lying on the floor of a small yellow room with her hands and feet tied and a piece of tape over her mouth, Maddy began to wonder why everyone seemed to be mistaking her for someone else. It wasn't as if she was so incredibly remarkable. She was not too tall or too short. She had always tried to be unobtrusive, and yet Mycroft Holmes had mistaken her for Sherlock's bosom pal, and these kidnappers had mistaken her for Mycroft's mistress.

She had seen four of the kidnappers since she had arrived: The woman, two thugs, and the man who had pulled her into the van. He appeared to be the leader. Her hands were held firm, and she felt a little sick from the bad tasting tape over her mouth.

One of the thugs looked down at her as she lay against the wall. "Is that the kind of girl that rich blokes like?" he asked, "she don't look like much to me."

"What do you expect her to look like?" thug two said.

"I don't know, I just thought that rich blokes would want someone, you know, more sexy."

"She might be sexy," thug two said, " You can't always tell by looking."

"Huh?, yes you can."

"I mean who knows what kind of _techniques_ she has. I hear that those professional girls know things that can blow a man's mind."

The two of them turned and looked down at Maddy crumpled on the floor. She wiggled her feet to increase the circulation and her left shoe fell off. "You mean, her?" thug one said. "She looks pretty tame to me."

"Well that might be what she does then. She could be one of those 'obedient' girls. Guys like him are all into kinky stuff, and she might look hot in leather straps."

"Nah, he wouldn't want no one submissive," thug one replied. "I heard that powerful government types all like to be dominated. You know, they like women with whips and really sharp heels."

"It doesn't matter what they like," thug two said. "All that matters is that we have her, and he'll want to get her back."

They turned as the door opened and the boss came in. He looked down at Maddy and then gestured to the thugs. "Pick her up," he said pulling out a phone. "Let's see how Mycroft Holmes likes seeing his lady bound and gagged." The two men glanced at each other grinning before picking Maddy up by her elbows and helping her stand. The man took a picture of her face.

"Look more worried. Look more scared," the man ordered, but Maddy couldn't look scared. Being scared meant that she had something to fear. There was no fear, only certainty that she was going to die. She was nothing to Mycroft Holmes. She sat quietly hoping that they would be content with tossing her out on the street as soon as they learned her real value.

The leader snapped another picture of her and then said, "She looks pretty wilted. Give her some water or something so she'll look better on the video. We want him crying over her."

"But boss, do you really think that this Holmes guy has the power to release Dolf from prison?"

"My information came from the highest authority. Mycroft Holmes has much more power in fact, than he has on paper. We get to him, and we can have whatever we want. You don't know how long I've been looking for his weakness, so get that girl looking decent before I get back. I'm going to drop this picture off somewhere conspicuous."

"Alright boss," thug two said as he left. "Hey, go untie her," he told the other one. "Give her some water."

The man untied her feet and mouth, but kept her hands tied behind her. He held the water to her lips. It spilled down her front.

"Now look at what you've done!" thug two said. "She can't have that stain on the video. We're going to have to dry that shirt.

"May I go to the bathroom," Maddy asked, her voice quiet and cracking.

"Should we?" thug one asked.

"Yeah, let her go clean up."

The man untied her hands, and she rubbed her wrists as he shoved her into a small bathroom with a toilet, a sink and little else.

"This door don't lock," he said, "so don't get any ideas."

As soon as the door closed Maddy raised her eyes and began looking around the room. She climbed up on the toilet and tried to wedge herself out of the small window. She could get an arm out, or her head, but she couldn't fit through.

She climbed down and putting her hands on her waist, she felt the bulge that was her phone. She pulled it out. She could call for help! But who would she call, Mycroft? She had just escaped from him. Calling him would give him power over her. She would owe him, and then he'd insist that she help him.

But what Mycroft wanted was something that she would not do. Sherlock had given his life and his reputation to get the freedom to leave here, the chance to find the people threatening the ones he loved. He had made a big choice, and Maddy respected it. There was no way that she would try to trick him into returning to his old problems, and she was sure that Mycroft was one of his old problems. It would be like someone dragging her back to North Carolina to live with her step-father. That time had passed. There was no turning back.

But then, who could help her? Angela was in another city. Abud was dead.

Suddenly the grief that Maddy had been suppressing welled up inside of her. She squatted down onto the bathroom floor and started to cry. Abud had been in just such a situation. Things had suddenly turned bad, and they had decided to shoot him and the other person who had worked with him. Mycroft said that it was someone named Moriarty who did it. He also said that Moriarty never did these sort of things himself. That meant that Abud's killer was still out there somewhere. Some people would think about revenge, but Maddy couldn't. What did it matter who killed Abud. All that mattered was that he was dead. She grasped her legs with her arms wanting someone to talk to, then she realized, she could call John. John would help her.

Maddy jumped up and turned the faucet so that the sound of running water filled the room, then she climbed up on the toilet and leaned out of the window.

"Hello? Who is it? How did you get this number," John said in rapid succession.

"John, it's Maddy, I need help."

It took a while of trying to read street signs and identify landmarks, but eventually John thought he had enough information to find her.

"Stay calm," he said. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

Maddy walked out of the bathroom upright and stiff-lipped secure in the knowledge that her kidnappers would not guess that a black scarf was fluttering in the wind outside of the bathroom window signaling where she was.

"She's pepped up a bit," thug two said looking her over. "Sit her in the chair over there until the boss returns."

Less than an hour later, the door was kicked in, and three people were being led out to police cars. The boss had never returned.

Maddy found herself sitting on the back of an emergency van sipping a box of juice with a red blanket on her shoulders. John stood beside her kindly waiting for her to recover.

DI Lestrade walked over and patted John on the shoulder. "John, it's good to be working with you again. I haven't seen you for a while."

"Not since the funeral," John said.

"Yes, everything has been cockeyed since Sherlock's death," Lestrade commented.

At the name, Sherlock, John blinked and turned his head away.

"There's been all sorts of Hell down at the force. All of the cases that Sherlock solved are up for review. The sad thing is, I still need him. There are new cases everyday. Cases that he could have solved in minutes, but they still puzzle me. I could use your input if you have the time unofficially of course. Can you help? Just come over to talk, and work on a few cases?"

"I'm not Sherlock," John said. "I'm not the genius. I'm just...me."

"Just because you're not Sherlock doesn't mean you don't have years of experience solving crimes," Lestrade added, "Come on John, I'm desperate!"

John looked up into the detective's eyes and then nodded. "I think that I might like that," he said. Lestrade grinned broadly and patted him on the back again.

"Glad to have your help. I'll call you tomorrow. Lots to do tonight. Apparently this group was planning all kinds of mayhem. I've got to take some more photos. Call in some people. Anyway. Look forward to having that talk," he said, and he was off.

Maddy took another sip of juice. "So Maddy. I'm going home. You can come and stay over tonight, or I can take you anywhere you like. Do you have somewhere to go Maddy?"

Maddy thought about the expensive hotel room. ' _I have rented this room for three nights_ ,' Mycroft had said, ' _so feel free to come and go as if it is your own.'_

"Yes," Maddy said, "I would like to stay over at your flat tonight, if it's alright with you. Is something wrong? What is it? What do you see?"  John was looking at something in the distance.

"It's nothing," he said. "A black car. I thought that it might be ... someone that I know. I just couldn't understand why he'd come."

Maddy turned and looked. She had the feeling that she knew whose car that was. She took off the blanket, then John helped her down and they took a taxi to his flat. Mrs Hudson frowned as they climbed up to his rooms, but she didn't object.

"You can stay on the couch," he said. "Bathroom's over there, kitchen is there. I'll make us some tea."

"My clothes!" Maddy cried looking around for her bag.

"I've talked to Lestrade. As soon as they go over everything to see that there is nothing that needs be held in evidence, they'll give it back. Until then, I'll ask Mrs Hudson if she's got anything for you to wear." John said reassuringly before turning to go downstairs.

Maddy sat down on the battered couch. _'It isn't like I've left anything particularly valuable_ ,' she thought, ' _the only things that I'd want back are my scarf and my Snow Queen book_.' She thought of the silk scarf that was probably still dangling from the window. She had liked it almost as much as the phone that was wrapped in it. Sherlock had left her the book. How was it that three of the things that she valued most in the world had come from a man who she had spent less than twelve hours with?

She hid the phone back in her waistband and lay back on the old couch. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

_Maddy was ten, sitting in the kitchen of the London house. Her mom was cooking. Maman Mildred knocked on the door and came in. "So how is that Lemon custard coming along.?" Mildred asked._

_"Horrible," Mom said. "I just don't have the hang of making custard."_

_"Oh let me help you," she said sliding her hand around the pot handle and taking mother's place at the stove. She looked up and smiled, "Hi there little Maddy, how are you?" she said just as Suzanna rushed through the door._

_"Maman, Maman!" she cried._

_"Suzanna?!" Mildred said, "Did you even knock? Go out of that door and try to enter again like a civilized little girl."_

_Suzanna signed and walked out of the door. She knocked again_ , and Maddy woke up face down on the floor by the couch in John and Sherlock's flat.

"Suzanna!" She said, "How could I have forgotten about Suzanna?"


	5. Remembrance and Realization

Maddy found herself lying face down on the red rug. A blanket stretched from her shoulders to the vacant couch. She sat up.

She was in a strange flat. As she looked out at the streetlight shining through the curtained window, she remembered seeing this window from the other side. She was in Sherlock's flat at 221B Baker street.

A door opened and light streamed from the bedroom as John Watson entered wearing pajama's and a striped robe. "Maddy, is something wrong?" he asked. "I heard a cry. Did you have a nightmare?"

Maddy got up off of the floor. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked.

"No," John said. "I was just doing a bit of reading."

John turned on a lamp and then closed the door to the bedroom. Maddy sat back on the couch, and John sat in his chair. "I'm glad that you're awake though," he said, "because we have some things to talk about."

"What?" Maddy asked preoccupied. She was clasping her necklace. "I'm sorry. My dream, it was...I dreamed of my mother. I haven't done that for a long time."

John crossed his legs like one of his therapists and said, "Tell me about your dream."

Maddy bit her lips and looked off into the darkness as she remembered. "It was from my childhood. It felt like a memory, but I don't know if it really ever happened. It was from the time when we lived in London. We moved here so that dad could work, but he was always away. We lived in a house next to Maman Mildred and her granddaughter, Suzanna."

"What happened in your dream?" John asked.

"Nothing. Mom was cooking, and Mildred came over to help her, but Suzanna... I had forgotten that Suzanna even existed. I came to London to see Maman Mildred, but when I got to her house, she was already dead, and I didn't know anyone here at all. Suzanna was eleven when I last saw her. Her real dad took her away. I guess in my mind, Suzanna will always be eleven, but she's about my age really. If I could only find her, she might be able to help me get back on my feet."

"So you have a friend here?" John asked, "Someone that can help you?"

"No," Maddy said the wonder of the dream leaving her fast. "There's no way that I could find her. I don't even remember her father's last name. It was a nice thought, but there's no way that I could find her after all of these years."

John leaned forward clasping his hands and smiling. "You may not be able to find her," he said, "but I might be able to. You forget that I have been a detective for the last two years."

Maddy turned toward him, hope unclouding her face. "John, do you really think that you might find her? Oh I'd do anything to help. If there's anything that I can do, anything that you need from me, just ask."

"Well there is something that I would like to ask you," he said seriously.

"Anything," she said.

"Tell me how you got my phone number?"

Maddy froze. There was no way that she could mention Sherlock's name without John insisting that she tell him the entire story. In fact, Mycroft had only to see the phone to know that Sherlock was still alive. She needed to tell John something that he would believe, and fast. His eyes were becoming increasingly hard and his expression passed from curiosity to suspicion. She said the first thing that came into her head. "Mycroft Holmes gave it to me," she said.

John sat up, "Mycroft?" he said, "how do you know Mycroft Holmes?"

Maddy knew that honesty would be the best solution, but somehow she had to avoid mentioning Sherlock. She did her best. "When I left your flat the other day, Mycroft had me picked up. He thought that I was a spy for someone named Moriarty."

"And are you a spy for Moriarty?" John asked.

"No!" Maddy said heartfelt, "No, I am not a spy. I told that to Mycroft, but he wouldn't let me go. He locked me up in this expensive hotel room. Eventually I got out, and then someone kidnapped me. I think that they thought that the two of us were ... involved somehow." 

John moved his mouth slowly as if tasting the words before he said them, " _Mycroft_ wouldn't let you go? You call him _Mycroft_?"

"Uh, yeah." Maddy said, "I asked him if it was alright, and he said okay."

John's face contorted into a number of strange expressions before he spoke again, "Mycroft Holmes. Are we talking about the same man? Tall, pompous, waistcoat, snobby expression, this man let you call him by his first name?"

"Yes." Maddy said.

"And he gave you my personal number?" John asked.

Maddy hesitated a moment on the lie. "Yes," she said.

"Bloody hell!" John said sitting back in his chair.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Either you are deep in the middle of some seriously convoluted covert operation, or Mycroft Holmes is in love with you."

It was Maddy's turn to gape. "What do you mean?" she asked.

John regarded her closely as if looking to see what Mycroft's type looked like.

"What do you mean!" Maddy asked again more insistently.

"I mean that Mycroft Holmes, if this is the same man, Mycroft is not the kind of man to give information to anyone freely, not unless he wants something in return. I lived with his brother, and everything with them was a chess game. He gave nothing away unless he wanted something from it. What did he want from you, and why give you my number? I hope he's not trying to get something from me, because I'm done with Mycroft. I won't play with him anymore."

"What did you mean by covert operation?"

"I meant that normally, he wouldn't give you the time of day, much less put you in a posh hotel room. He must have been using you. You must have arrived at a convenient time for him. That kidnapping was no accident. That's why the black car arrived. He expected it. Mycroft Holmes expected you to be kidnapped."

"You mean, he did it?" Maddy asked getting angry.

"Not necessarily," John said. "There was no need to kidnap you if he already had you. He probably knew that someone was watching him and set you up to get kidnapped so that he could find them. Well it worked. We captured the kidnappers. Shit! Now Mycroft's getting me to do his dirty work like he used to do to Sherlock. Bastard! Sherlock's not cold in his grave and Mycroft is already back to ..." John's voice trailed off and a look of incredible sadness crossed his face.

Maddy went across to him and put a hand on his arm. John seemed to collapse in the chair. Maddy recognized the feeling. She had done it earlier that day. "Let's get you back to bed," she said pulling him up by his arm and leading him into the bedroom.

Maddy pulled back the covers and sat John down on the bed. She pushed him down and covered him with the blanket. He was surprisingly docile, lost in his own pain, unable to concentrate on the world around him. She sat on the bed and tucked him in, then she looked around the room. There was a periodic table on the wall and something in a foreign language. "This is HIS room isn't it?" Maddy asked, "Mr. Holmes slept here." John didn't answer. He only pulled the blanket over his head. Maddy turned off the light and left the room.

Back on the couch, Maddy pulled the blanket around her. For once she was glad that she and Abud hadn't had a home. They hadn't lived together and so Abud was only a memory to her now. She had some jewelry and good times to remember him by. But John was surrounded by Sherlock all of the time. Everything in this house spoke of him. It was suffocating. All of these possessions. All of the things that he had touched. No wonder John had despaired. How could he get over Sherlock's death with all of these things to remind him that Sherlock was gone. How selfish of Sherlock to leave him here with all of these reminders. All of these things that could cause him pain.

But then again, when she remembered Sherlock holding the phone with John's picture on it, she knew that John was not the only one pained by this parting. She lay down on the couch realizing what a difficult task it would be to take care of John.

Then she thought of John's words. Mycroft had set her up. He thought that Mycroft had meant to involve him, but she understood it now. He had given her back the phone, and then let her get kidnapped, He had hoped that she would call Sherlock. He really would do whatever he had to do to get his brother back, even if it meant letting her get killed.

But now that she was staying with John, she was endangering him. If Mycroft's plan was to put her into increasingly more dangerous situations until she broke down and called for Sherlock, then living here would not in any way be keeping John safe.

Maddy gathered her things, took an apple from the table, and then looked in on John. He was sleeping with Sherlock's pillow clasped in his arms. She pulled on her coat and took out the phone. She could call Mycroft. Confront him directly about his trickery, but what good would it do. It would only tip her hand. Tell him that she knew what a liar he was. She put the phone into her pocket and headed for the door. Just then, a text message arrived and she looked down at it.

**[Meet me at the Axel cable warehouse on fifth at 4am. Come alone. SH]**

Sherlock had finally texted her back.

* * *

 

Maddy could see her breath as she pushed open the door to the empty warehouse. When she was in the homeless network, warehouses had been her specialty so she knew exactly where this one was. The warehouse was deserted as one would expect at this time of night, but the lights had been left on. She walked into the center of the large room looking up at the chains hanging down from the girders in the ceiling. Despite her familiarity with them, Maddy always found empty warehouses a bit spooky.

The lights in the center of the room were on, but it was dark in the rafters, and the boxes made dark shadows all around. Maddy turned at a sound and saw Mycroft Holmes approaching cane in hand. She faced him.

"You," she said. "You sent this message to get me here. What did you want?"

"No, I did not send the message," he said.

"Then how?"

Mycroft pulled out a cell phone identical to Maddy's. "I had your phone duplicated," Mycroft said, "I've come for the same reason that you've come." Mycroft pulled his pocket watch out of his pocket and looked at it, "It is past time. Where is he?"

"Not coming I'm afraid," a voice said. "I'm surprised that you actually gave your security the slip. That makes this more convenient." Maddy recognized him as the man in charge of the kidnappers. He walked into the light. He was holding a rifle.

"Where's Sherlock?" Maddy said walking toward him. Mycroft put out a hand to hold her back.

"I haven't the slightest," the man said, "but that's not what this is about."

"You work for me don't you?" Mycroft said, "Kinney isn't it? From technology and cracking?"

"I'm honored that you remembered me," he said. "but then again, I did you a service, copying Irene Adler's phone and then Sherlock's for you."

"You sent the message." Mycroft said with certainty.

"And you fell for it. The great Mycroft Holmes finally in my power."

"Hardly," Mycroft said. "This building is surrounded by my security."

The man laughed. "No it's not. You wouldn't want anyone to know that your brother was still alive. When this phone was sent to me, there were no instructions except to copy it, but I figured it out. Your brother is your greatest weakness. You wouldn't tell anyone that you came to meet him. No Mr. Holmes, except for the little woman here, you are quite alone."

Mycroft Holmes frowned. "So now that I am here, what is it that you want?"

"I want a great many things," the man said. "I want a world where the powerful do not oppress the weak. I want the multinational corporations ruined. I want to watch Buckingham palace burn, but I will settle with destroying you."

The man lifted his gun and shot Mycroft. Maddy screamed and dropped to his side. She noticed that there was a dart in his chest instead of a bullet. She looked up into his shocked face. He tried to talk to her, but soon he fell back. She grabbed him in her arms lowering him to the ground. Then she turned to see the muzzle of the gun pointing at her. Pain, and suddenly the world went black.


	6. Anarchy

When Maddy woke, she found herself chained to a bed. Something that she had heard before about people chained to beds without enough sheets to hang themselves flashed into her brain, and she began to panic. Then a calm voice spoke to her. "Madeline, relax. It seems that we are alright for the moment."

Maddy turned her head and saw Mycroft Holmes chained to a chair. He was in a state of partial undress. His coat, shirt, shoes, socks, and waistcoat had been removed and he sat in only his undershirt and his trousers. He looked so exposed. Not the immaculately put together man that she was used to.

Maddy pulled on the chain. It was attached to her right wrist, and she couldn't pull it out, but she realized that one of the rungs of the chain was caught on a hook. She lifted her hand unhooking it, and she was able to rise up off of the bed. The other side of the chain was attached to the leg of the bed. She noticed that the chain was long enough to reach the toilet, and it was almost, but not quite long enough to reach Mycroft. She stretched and her fingers touched his cheek.

She walked back and tugged on the bed, but it was securely fastened to the floor. The small room had white cinderblock walls and a white foam ceiling. There was one door and no windows.

"Where are we?" Maddy asked.

"We are being held by terrorists. Domestic terrorists to be exact," Mycroft said, "my guess is that we are still in the greater London area by the air quality and the weather, but it is too quiet to be very central. I heard a helicopter earlier, but it was faint and I was not able to discern the manufacturer, although I did ascertain that it was probably commercial, so I believe that we are within 10 miles of a commercial airport. If this room only had a window, there is so much more that I could deduce from the vegetation, insect life and angle of light. Unfortunately, tied as I am to this chair, I have little to go on."

"Why aren't we dead?" Maddy asked.

"How refreshingly direct you are Madeline," Mycroft said. "We are not dead, because we may serve his needs better alive than dead. "

"That was the man who kidnapped me before," Maddy said.

"I had surmised as much," Mycroft replied, "I had not realized that he was in my employ however. We must improve our employee screening process."

 

There was the sound of the lock and they both turned as the door was opened and the man entered, a smaller gun visible in his hand.

"You come armed again," Mycroft said, "unnecessary as we are unable to defend ourselves."

"Sit down woman or I'll make you fall down." The man said closing the door behind him as he pushed a wheeled cart over to the corner of the room far away from them. He pulled out a plastic cup and filled it with water. "This is for you," he said, "You must be thirsty."

"No, thank you," Mycroft said dignified even in his undershirt.

"Ah, you are suspicious. I have no need to drug the water. I could have drugged you while you slept much more easily." Even so, the man took a sip from the cup before walking toward Mycroft. Then he paused and handed the cup to Maddy instead. "You give him the water." he said.

Maddy took the cup. She wondered if she should try something, but she was not a fighter. She sipped the water and then walked over to Mycroft reaching out with one hand until the cup reached his mouth. Mycroft drank.

"Good," the man said. "You're going to need that for what comes next." The man walked up to him and stuck Mycroft in the shoulder with a needle. Mycroft reached out with his foot and tried to trip the man, but the man stepped back. "None of that," he said.

"What did you just give him?" Maddy asked.

"Sodium triopental," The man said.

"What is that?" Maddy asked.

"Truth serum." Mycroft Holmes replied. "Why are you doing this?"

"What an unbecoming question, Mr. Holmes. You know why I am doing this."

"If you want to get Delph out of prison, this is no way to accomplish your goals."

"Oh, that story was just for my flunkies," the man said. "People like that need concrete objectives to live and die for."

"Who is Delf?" Maddy asked.

"The leader of the _The New Way_ Anarchist group. He was captured a year ago along with most of their organization as they attempted to bomb King's cross station."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" Maddy asked.

"Why would anyone want to live in this world of inequality?" The man said with emotion. "Those trains are just a sign of our oppression. Devices to take people to and from their positions of slavery. This country is full of slaves and they don't even know that they are in chains!"

Mycroft arched his brows as he stared at the man before him. "That man in prison isn't Delph," Mycroft said. "You are."

"Very good, very smart, just what I would expect of the great Mycroft Holmes, so clever, so important to the plans of the government. I was going to blackmail you," Delph said, "but this is so much better isn't it? I got the idea from Mrs Adler and her phone. She seduced all of those people. Got them to talk to her and tell her secrets. This is so much more direct is it not? You value directness. I heard you say as much to your woman."

"I'm not..." Maddy began.

"Oh, I know who you are," Delph said, "but do you?" He turned on a tape recorder. "Now the drug will enter your system and you will talk. You will tell me all of your government's secrets, and with this information I will make it fall to the ground."

"You won't escape Delph." Mycroft said. "We will hunt you down and find you before you get a chance to use your data, my people will destroy you."

"Well, if I don't get a chance to finish my plan, I'll just have to do plan B. You see, I've learned that many top officials think that Mycroft Holmes is indispensable to the proper running of the government. Therefore, my second best way to destroy the government is to kill you. Now, I must leave to create a false trail for your men, but just go on talking without me. Say whatever comes to mind. I promise, when I come back I will hang on your every word."

"He's alone here," Maddy said. "If he had anyone else helping him, they would have come."

Mycroft frowned at her as if he did not wish for her to reveal that they knew this.

"Yes it is true. You have an unfortunate habit of capturing my followers," Delph said, "but I am more than capable of creating havoc all on my own."

"What is your plan?" Mycroft asked.

Delph laughed, "I've already told you all that I am going to," he said. "I'm sure that you can deduce what will happen when your absence is noticed. And you can predict what will happen to the government when they discover that it is permanent. What were you doing before you left? Where will your absence cause the most damage? Think on that while I'm away. I'll be interested to hear what you have to say about it. Good bye." He said as he walked through the door, shutting and locking it behind him.

Maddy screamed, "Let us out!" and "Help!" but no one seemed to hear her. They were certainly housed far away from anyone else.

"Please be quiet now Madeline," Mycroft asked her. "I am trying to concentrate. To somehow counteract the drug."

"What, do you have some kind of antiserum? a tablet hidden in your cheek?"

"How fanciful." Mycroft said. "I was just hoping to steady myself. Perhaps to bite my tongue so that I am not understandable, or to throw myself back with enough force to knock myself out."

"Why are you talking about hurting yourself?" Maddy asked sitting back down on the bed.

"Because I cannot be allowed to talk," Mycroft said concerned, "The secrets that we gleaned from Ms Adler are as nothing to the secrets that I house in my head. Any one of them could shake the stability of this nation. I am loathe to praise the enemy, but this plan is ingenious. By breaking me, he will gain knowledge that can greatly harm this nation. Perhaps a suicide pill would have been an appropriate precaution."

"Don't be ridiculous," Maddy said. "What does this drug do anyway? As I understand it, all you have to do is be quiet and not talk."

"You don't understand Madeline," Mycroft began, "The drug tends to make subjects loquacious and cooperative with interrogators. It will make me talk. But you can help me Maddy. I need you to help me for the safety of this nation."

"I don't care about the nation," Maddy said. "But I can help. What do you need?"

"You have to talk to me. Talk to me about anything but the government. Lead me away from subjects that will be harmful."

Mycroft's head started to fall forward. "Oh my," he said, "it's starting. I hope that he applied the correct dosage."

"Why?" Maddy asked.

"Because this drug is also used to kill by lethal injection."

Maddy reached over to Mycroft. When she stretched, she could just put one hand on his chest. "If I could get you closer, I might be able to loosen your bonds," she said. She pulled on the seat of the chair, but got nowhere, so she lay down on the ground. Tugging at the leg of Mycroft's chair, she was able to get a tiny bit of movement. By pulling one leg after the other she was able to move it closer to the bed in little steps. The work was slow. "Maybe you can help me by leaning," she said, but Mycroft seemed to be concentrating on something. He sat very still with his eyes squeezed shut.

There were marks on the floor from the chair. She hooked her foot around one leg of the bed and was able to pull the chair a couple of inches. When she looked up, she noticed that Mycroft was starting to doze off. "I fear that he may have used a bit too much." Mycroft said. "I hope that it doesn't cause permanent brain damage, however, an overdose of sodium triopental can induce a coma. That could be advantageous. Perhaps, it would be for the best."

"You want to be in a coma?" Maddy asked, her fingers grasping the leg of the chair tightly as she pulled it closer.

"If I am in a coma, I can say nothing. That would be best for the government."

"And you always do what is best for the government?"

"I try."

"And why is that?"

"Because that is what I have chosen to..."

"Chosen to ...what?" Maddy asked.

"Madeline, please stop asking me questions."

"Finish the sentence!" Maddy said. "That is what you have chosen to ... what?"

"To amuse myself with. To keep myself occupied," Mycroft said.

"You work for the government because it is amusing?"

"Yes," Mycroft said. "I mean, no. Madeline, you are supposed to be on my side."

"Who told you that I was on your side?" Maddy said. "You're a rich man, a powerful man. Maybe that Delph guy was right? Maybe it's better if you all go down."

Mycroft became marginally more alert and a sneer formed on his features. "Oh yes, I forgot. In your simplistic worldview, Madeline, poor means _good_ and  rich means _bad_ as if they were matters of choice and not positions that we are born to. I remember how at our first meeting you said that I had no compassion. That it had been choked out of me by my...what were your exact words? My ' _privilege and my public school education_ '. Well, you couldn't be more wrong. There is a reason that we are called _public servants_. It is because we try to do good for everyone. We try to make the world better. Look at your lot. Here you are at the bottom of society, and yet there are still worse things. Despite what Mr. Delph says, you do not find yourself captured and enslaved? I have personally encouraged legislation that has lead to the breaking down and deportation of the leaders of twelve illegal slavery rings. We have kept the government strong and at peace. Your life would be much harsher if we were in a war, believe me."

"But we are at war. You just try to hide it."

"I do no such thing!" Mycroft said. "My goal is the continued prosperity and protection of the Commonwealth. I set my mind to accomplish this goal, and I am very good at it. I could tell you stories ...but this is what you were to help me avoid. Please, talk about something else, anything else."

"Did you know that I would get kidnapped?"

Mycroft stared at Maddy. "This isn't what I was thinking about when I asked you to change the subject."

"Well, did you?" Maddy asked looking pointedly at him.

"I knew that it was a possibility," he said reluctantly.

"And you let me go into danger?"

"Yes," Mycroft said. "Why is this a problem for you? You worked as an operative for my brother. I was only asking you to do what you did for him."

"Your brother never sent us into harmful situations if he could avoid it. He protected us. He disbanded the network when it seemed that we might be targeted or discovered. Your brother is better than you. You don't value human life."

"And Sherlock does? Ha! Sherlock used you as well."

"He told us what he wanted. He was honest with us."

"You are talking to me of honesty? You knew where my brother was and you refused to tell me. You consciously kept it from me. I knew that there was a threat against my life, and I felt that a little peril might attract my brother if he was watching you. Kill two birds with one stone so to speak. I didn't mean for you to be harmed."

"But if I was killed that wouldn't be that much of a loss."

"I never said that."

"But you thought it," Maddy said. "The truth is that other people just don't matter to you, do they Mycroft Holmes?"

"There are always casualties in war. We **are** at war, Maddy, with forces that you see everyday: greed, poverty, hate. I fight those things."

"And people don't matter."

Of course people matter!" he cried.

"You mean that their actions have an effect on your work. They matter as pieces in some game, not as individuals. No one is _real_ to you. Everyone but you is simply a manikin or a robot moving around like the figures in an old fashioned German clock. They aren't the same as you."

"No, you aren't the same as me," he cried. "Of course you aren't! You don't have all this data, data, data cluttering up your brain. You don't see ahead what's going to happen in a minute, in an hour, in fifty years. **_I do_**. Do you know what a burden that is? I would have gone mad ages ago if I hadn't found this solution?"

"My mind races even in a simple conversation. People talk so slow. I solve equations in my brain between words to make my speech slow enough for others to understand me. I have an algorithm that applies to each type of conversation. A set of rules to get the spacing right. I tried to teach it to Sherlock, but he doesn't have the patience. He natters on too fast and alienates people. But other than the intricacies of social situations, I try NOT to study individual people, their habits and foibles, like Sherlock does. I study entire populations.

"What will be the effect on the population if we enact gay marriage legislation, for example? How will it effect the incidence of hate crime, homicide, suicide, tourism, national prestige? I look at how other countries seek to get advantage through trade. How small increases in tariffs will effect the cost of what the common British citizen buys for breakfast for the next fifteen years. I watch how decreases in infant mortality in Namibia affect immigration and cybercrime rates in the commonwealth. I pack it all into my brain and consider it, and yet there are always more things to consider.

"It is a game. To try to get the highest point value so to speak. The value that gives the greatest safety, security, quality of life, for all the British people. Is that not an honorable enough goal for you? Is that not something worth dedicating a life to? Or would you rather stone me, and burn down my house because I was born rich? If I were a drunk who wanders the street begging for money and performing occasional acts of petty theft to get by, would that be a better life for me?

"It was the harsh reality of poverty that drove James Moriarty mad. Under different circumstances he could have done great good, but what happened to him? He had to use his wits to survive in a harsh world and he turned to crime. Ultimately he killed himself. A bullet to the brain. What a waste. And my brother, he is constantly in danger of a similar fate. I had thought ... I had thought that I had lost him. That this time, I failed to get there in time, but you told me of a much happier fate."

"You mean because I told you that he was alive," Maddy said.

"Not only that," Mycroft said. "I was happy because he left you behind to watch John. It told me why he faked his death. It told me why he won't kill himself now. Because he has people that he cares for. To paraphrase E.M. Forster, he has finally found that the answer to the question of life is _Yes!_ It means that Sherlock has finally begun to understand love."

"And do you understand love, Mycroft Holmes?" Maddy asked. She had moved the chair a foot closer so that she could touch him now. She reached an arm around his waist to touch his hands. They were bound by handcuffs, not rope.

"Oh God!" Mycroft said his head bobbing on his chest. "I can't, I can't hold back. Please! just take the sheet from the bed and stuff it into my mouth. Just stop my mouth from talking before I say something. Please, Madeline do something, now."

Maddy looked at the mattress. It had a zippered mattress cover, but she didn't think that she could get it off in time. Mycroft's head was rolling from side to side. He started to mumble. She had to stop up his mouth somehow. She stared at his face. His eyelids were starting to flicker. She sat on his lap and lifted his chin, blocking his mouth with her own tongue as she held him in a deep kiss.


	7. Rescue

Two hours later, Maddy heard the sound of footsteps, so she climbed up off of Mycroft's chair. There was a metallic sound and then the door was removed by the hinges. It swung open with the lock still intact. Men in black suits with guns rushed in. One pulled out a walky- talky. "We've found him," he said, "repeat, _Golden_ has been found."

Maddy stepped back and gave the military doctor access to Mycroft. "What did they give him?" The doctor asked her.

"Sodium...uh...truth serum," Maddy said.

The doctor reached into his bag, and pulled out a stethescope as he listened to Mycroft's heart. There was the shuffle of high-heels and the dark haired woman rushed into the room. Maddy had never seen her look flustered before. She rushed over to Mycroft. "Sir," she said putting more emotion into that one syllable than she had in entire conversations with Maddy.

The doctor grabbed the side of Mycroft's face, and flashed a light into his eye. "Can you please refrain from doing that," Mycroft said.

The dark haired woman smiled. "Sir," she said again, relieved.

A man in black looked around, "Let's get them to a secure location," he said,"you know what they said about the bomb."

"The tape!" Mycroft said pointing, and the woman rushed across the room, stopping the recorder and placing the tape in her briefcase.

Mycroft's hands were freed and they were ushered out of the building and onto a field of green grass. The daylight blinded Maddy and she could hardly see the tree covered landscape. Mycroft was led toward a helicopter. Maddy was about to be led away to a waiting car. "No!" Mycroft said, his arm reaching out to grab her wrist, "With me!" he cried his voice cracked and scratchy.

The woman nodded, and they were ushered onto the helicopter which promptly took off. They circled the plain flat-roofed building. It looked like an ant's nest with black-clad men running around it. There was a call on the walky-talky that made the men jump. Then there was an explosion and half of the building went up. Maddy could tell that the explosion centered on the room that they had been held in.

Mycroft was lying on the floor. The doctor hooked him up to an IV. Someone wrapped Maddy in a blanket, and she slumped in her seat exhausted. When they landed, they climbed into an ambulance. Maddy was seated on the side, and Mycroft was strapped in the bed as they drove through the city streets, lights flashing. There was some discussion of whether or not to go to the hospital, but Mycroft directed them to take him home instead. They passed through a metal gate and down a driveway, and she found herself being shepherded into a large house. There were arches and columns and life-sized statues. The previous house where Mycroft had talked to her, had looked like a show house. This place looked like a museum.

She watched as he was ushered down a hallway and into a room. To her surprise, she was taken into the adjoining room. A woman shone a light in her eyes and took her blood pressure. "Elevated," she said.

' _I wonder why?'_ Maddy thought sarcastically. She was given a robe and a towel and pointed toward the shower.

The bathroom alone told her that this was no hotel. This was a home. Abandoned perfumes and toiletries sat on the shelves, and the shower had an extra large head. She washed off quickly putting on the gown that she found on her bed. It was not hospital issue. She decided to put on some perfume before wrapping a robe around her and leaving the bathroom.

A woman in a maid's uniform came in from the hall and left a tray containing water, orange juice and bread. Maddy descended upon it finishing it quickly and then she walked to the door asking to see Mycroft Holmes. A man showed her into the next room.

It was a large bedroom all browns and reds with a curtained canopy bed. Leather chairs sat near the window, and a narrow armoire stood near the door to a walk in closet. A mirrored dressing table across from the bed contained his brush and a collection of jewelry. On a desk on the far wall sat a glass box containing a model ship. " _So people really did that,_ " Maddy thought. Eventually Maddy's gaze was drawn to the bed where Mycroft lay. A nurse in a blue uniform sat in a chair beside him, but he waved her off, and she left them alone in the room.

Maddy walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you alright?" Maddy asked him.

"I'm fine," he said the bags under his eyes contradicted him, but the smile on his lips told her that it was only a matter of time before he was his old pompous self again.

"The building blew up," she said.

"A parting gift from Delph," Mycroft said. "He meant to insure my death even if he couldn't return."

"Has he been captured yet?"

"No. He is dead," Mycroft said. "He killed himself when he found that he was cornered. He took four good officers with him."

"Oh that's terrible," Maddy said. "I should call John, and tell him where I am."

"You are at my house," Mycroft said.

"Funny thing, I deduced that," Maddy replied. "The monogrammed handkerchiefs on the dresser are a dead give away."

"You will stay here for a while," he said. "There may be others waiting for an opportunity to strike."

"That's fine with me. I've been kidnapped enough to last a lifetime."

"You can't use your phone again," Mycroft said. "It's been compromised. You'll have to find another way to contact John and Sherlock."

"Oh I don't have to... wait!" Maddy said looking at him sidelong, "You are on your sickbed and you are still pumping me for information about your brother?" Mycroft smiled and Maddy smiled back. "Now, tell me where I can find a phone?"

Mycroft gestured to the other end of the room. She found one on a small table beside the window. She turned the rotary dial and phoned John. After a few moments she came back to sit beside Mycroft.

"What did he say?" Mycroft asked.

"I told him that I was going to stay over at Mycroft's for a few days and he started to laugh really loudly. I think he fell out of his chair."

"He finds this amusing?" Mycroft frowned.

"Oh, it's just something silly that we were talking about earlier," Maddy replied to Mycroft's raised eyebrow.

"I never said thank you, Miss St. Martin, for your service to the British government," Mycroft said solemnly. "There will be a commendation."

Maddy sat back surprised, "A commendation? For kissing you? No, I don't need that. I'd do that anyway."

"Would you?" Mycroft asked.

"Of course, given the situation that we were in," Maddy said, "It was logical, and I would most certainly not mind kissing you."

"Madeline," Mycroft said, his eyes locked on hers, "Would you?"

A smile touched Maddy's lips and she blushed. Then she leaned across the bed, placed her arms around his neck, and kissed Mycroft Holmes. It only took one shocked nurse walking in, before the entire household staff knew to knock before entering Mycroft's room. It was a bit unprecedented, because no one, not even the oldest staff, could remember him bringing any woman back to the house.

 

Early the next morning,Madeline lay back on Mycroft's large bed whose mattress was firmer than she would have expected. She liked it. She tugged at the curtains. "Do these close?" she asked, "because it's a bit cold in this place."

"There is a thermostat," Mycroft called from the bathroom where he was shaving.

Madeline wrapped a sheet around herself and walked over to the door to watch him. She smiled but did not know what to say. There were too many thoughts in her head, and she didn't know what to do with them all, so she watched his morning ritual. It was fascinating to her.

He lathered his face with a brush and shaved with a metal handled razor. Then he washed his face and ran some gel through his hair. He spent a few minutes perfecting the swoop of his bang to take attention away from his receding hairline. Maddy found herself laughing at his primping. He turned to face her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said shaking her head. "I'm just looking."

"You're free to wear my bathrobe until something more appropriate can be found for you," he said. "I've already rung up the chauffeur to go by the hotel and bring the wardrobe that we picked for you before, but you should feel free to buy new clothes if you prefer."

Mycroft raised his collar and left the bathroom. He started shuffling through a wooden armoire. Ties and handkerchiefs were organized by color and design. He pulled out a red one with small diamonds on it and wrapped it around his neck, then he went toward the dressing table.

Maddy followed him and sat down on the bed watching as he chose a tie pin and matching cufflinks. She had never seen anyone put on so many clothes before. He walked into the closet and came out with a waistcoat and a jacket. He tossed the jacket over a chair back and put on his waistcoat.

Maddy rose then and put her arms around his waist. Mycroft put his arms around her and looked down. "What is the expression?" he asked. "A penny for your thoughts."

Maddy looked up into his blue eyes. She didn't have just one thought in her brain today. First, she was thinking of last night and how unexpected it was. She would never have chosen a man such as Mycroft Holmes as a partner, nor would he have chosen her, but in that moment it had seemed as natural as putting two pieces of bread together to make a sandwich. Even now, it seemed right to hold this man who days ago would have been loathe to touch her. She placed her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was steady and strong. The drug had done no lasting damage, and he had decided to go to work rather than take a sick day. Maddy was almost afraid to let him go, because she knew that once he left, she would be alone to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Mycroft leaned his chin forward to rest on her head. Then he lifted her chin and kissed her. It was...sweet and calming, like hugs from mother, or roses in the spring. This was the most distressing thing of all, that although all outside indications said that they had nothing in common, when they were together, everything seemed to be right.

Mycroft Holmes was harsh and dangerous in the boardroom, but in the bedroom he was a teddy bear, cute and cuddly and warm and quiet. Maddy had not known that she wanted such things. The streets of London were loud and brash and busy. Here it was safe and quiet and cozy. And Mycroft felt more comfortable than any bed or chair. She didn't want to say that she was afraid that the moment he opened that door the world would come in and all of the reasons why they couldn't be together would cover them like the evils in Pandora's box. In this moment there was only him and her and no memories, no future, no past.

"You didn't answer me," he said. "What are you thinking?"

"Do you have a penny?" Maddy asked.

"No, I don't usually carry money," Mycroft said.

"Then I don't have to tell you," Maddy said closing her eyes and snuggling closer.

"You don't want me to go," Mycroft said smiling down on her.

"Did you deduce that using your incredible mental powers?" Maddy asked.

"No," he said. "I deduced that from the fact that your fingernails are digging into my back."

Maddy pulled back and looked up at his face. "Sorry," she said. "Do I still get that commendation?"

Mycroft laughed. "Absolutely! For service above and beyond the call of duty." Then his face became more serious. "You didn't have to. I know that I'm not... what someone like you would call... attractive."

Maddy jumped. "You're not trying to say that you aren't good enough for me are you? Because that's ludicrous. You're magnificent!"

Mycroft couldn't hide his smile. "I must put in an appearance today. There are issues that need my immediate attention. How the leader of an anarchist group is on my staff for one, but I can use my recent illness as an excuse to come home early. Will you be here?"

He made it a question. Maddy found it endearing that he was asking her if she would stay. Before he would have ordered it. "Yes," she said. "I'll be waiting for you."

Looking from the outside, Maddy didn't recognize herself. Who was this docile, quiet woman floating around Mycroft like a diaphanous cloak? She certainly felt as hazy as one. It was as if _she_ had been the one that was drugged. He had asked her for a kiss, and she had given him more. She had given him her faith, and he had given her his trust. Normally she would be looking for the trick in his words, but there had been no words.

She stepped away from him and helped him on with his coat. He turned back toward her and she tried to straighten his tie. She messed up the tie pin, and he had to re-pin it. She dropped the sheet, and he stepped forward and kissed her again. When they looked into each other's eyes, there was a fierce intensity. It was as if they both knew that the fates were against them. He held her to his chest and kissed the top of her head before going toward the door.

Maddy rushed forward handing him his pocket watch. He attached it and opened it, looking at its face and then hers. She could read his thoughts as if they were written on his forehead. _It's only a matter of time before this romance is a thing of the past_. He opened the door looking back at her, and then he left.

Maddy sat down on the bed and then fell back naked on the sheets. She still missed Abud. She had loved him, but it was stupid to think that love was something sold in fixed amounts. It didn't mean that she couldn't find something completely new. This feeling was completely unexpected, like finding an iris blooming in the snow. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his hand on her cheek. Nothing in her life had ever felt as smooth as his hands upon her skin.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Maddy reached down and wrapped the sheet around her. "Come in," she said hesitantly.

A maid in a black and white uniform, the kind that she had only seen in movies and costume shops, came in carrying a tray. "Good morning Miss," she said. She had a grin a mile wide plastered on her face. "I brought you some breakfast."

"What's your name?" Maddy asked.

"Ann," she said, "and you are Miss Madeline?"

"Maddy," she said. "Call me Maddy."

"Yes, Miss Maddy," she said. "When you need anything, just dial one and the butler will answer. We just received a call that your clothes are on their way. If you have questions about anything at all, you can call for me or Marie. She's the other maid."

"I do have one question," Maddy asked. "Does this happen often, that Mycroft ...Mr. Holmes, brings someone to stay over, a woman I mean?"

"Oh no Miss," Ann said shaking her head. "In fact, I've never seen him with a woman at all, other than that assistant of his, and she doesn't stay over. To tell the truth Miss, we staff are just tickled to death to see Mr. Mycroft show interest in anyone. We were beginning to wonder if ...I mean, sometimes he hardly acts like he's human at all." Ann placed the tray on the bedside table and then left. She winked as she closed the door. Maddy lifted the silver lid on the plate. Sausage and eggs and fruit with a side of grape juice. Maddy decided to shower first.

In the shower, Maddy scrubbed her body with the soap trying to remove the years of grime that she imagined coated her skin from living on the street. She rubbed at the scar that she got when she was caught in a skip and the lid had closed on her. She rubbed at the mark from the tranquilizer gun. The red skin from the ropes and the chain that had bound her. The mark on her foot where she had stepped on a nail and it had started to get infected before she had begged some antibiotic and bandages off of a woman with a small child.

Maddy squatted down in the water and held onto her legs as the water washed over her. Who did she think she was anyway? Why was she here? Where was she going? What should she be doing with her life? None of these questions had answers so she just turned off the water and climbed out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around herelf and walked into the bedroom.

While she had been bathing, someone had changed the sheets and made the bed. She blushed when she imagined what they would have seen on the bed sheets. There were clothes laid out for her. A red dress with polka-dots, red flats, stockings, and underwear. They looked to be in her size. She wondered for a moment who was choosing her clothes, dressing her up as a fashion doll.

She put on the clothes and then sat at Mycroft's dressing table. Somehow brushing her hair with his brush made her feel connected to him. She pulled her hair back and piled it on her head letting it fall back down when she realized that she had nothing to bind it there. She quickly discarded the idea of using one of his ties to tie up her hair, then she pushed it behind her ears and rose, steeling herself to go out of the door and take a look at Mycroft's museum-like home. She turned the doorknob and walked out.


	8. Mansion

Maddy walked out of the room and down the hall. A maid, must be Marie, saw her and ran off. She walked around until she was near the entryway and stopped in front of a suit of armor. It was an actual suit of armor! Did the Holmes descend from some ancient line of knights, or was it just the newest thing in home decoration?

A tall blond woman in a navy colored dress came forward and gave a small bow of her head. "Good Morning, Miss St. Martin. My name is Mrs. Winslow and I am the head housekeeper. Mr. Holmes said that you would be staying for a few days, so I would be happy to show you around the place."

Maddy looked up at Mrs. Winslow. She could hear the word ' _Master'_ when she said, ' _Mister'_. Maddy held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Maddy," she said, and the woman shook her hand. "I'd like a tour, because I afraid I'd get lost going to the bathroom here, but I'm not the Queen, and I don't expect to be treated that way. My history book said that Feudalism died a long time ago, and even if I have fallen through a hole in time to some place where they think it hasn't, I don't want to be putting on airs now so that when you see me later in some alley you want to kick me for being such an arse."

"Pardon?" Mrs Winslow asked.

"Um...I mean thank you, that would be nice," Maddy said. Mrs Winslow smiled and showed her the place. It was insanely big with its entry way and its formal dining hall and its study, library, and family room which was much more formal than anything else that she had ever heard called a family room. Maddy and Mycroft were sleeping in the family wing, and there was an entire second floor full of guest rooms.

Despite all of this space, only Mycroft lived here. His father had unfortunately passed away, although he had a mother who lived, "In the country house." When Maddy asked whether Sherlock ever stayed here, the woman flinched. He had stayed in the past, but his habits were disruptive to the proper maintenance of the estate, and so when he stayed, he was banished to the basement.

Maddy asked to see the basement and Mrs Winslow frowned. "I'm sorry, but these rooms are not maintained in the same manner as the rest of the house due to the danger of some of the items that the young Mr. Holmes left behind."

 _Better and better_ , Maddy thought, The basement had the air systems and the plumbing, a room for the security staff (she waved, they waved back), some storage areas, a back door, a bomb shelter, and the shop which was where Sherlock spent his time. She looked at at the stained grey table, the sink, and the wall of chemicals and immediately liked the place. In all of the building, it was the only place that looked lived in.

Maddy asked if there were any rules that she should know. She was told to dial 1 to get her or Mr. Tennison. The staff was present only in the daytime except for Tennison who lived in an adjoining flat and would come day or night if needed. She was told an alarm went off when any door or window was opened and that she should dial 5 to tell security if she had opened it. She was also told that Mr. Mycroft had instructed that should she need him, she should text his number, and he would call her back on the house phone in her study.

"But I don't have a phone anymore," she said before it dawned on her, "did you say _my study_?"

Mrs. Winslow grinned and walked Maddy back upstairs and back toward the family wing. Just before she entered, she turned and opened a plain white door. The room was small compared to the other rooms. The walls were a pale robin's egg blue. The ceiling was painted with clouds and flying birds. There was a fireplace, two recliners, a brown couch, and a desk with a phone. The blue and white pattern on the rug was more modern than designs found in the rest of the house, and Maddy visibly relaxed.

"This is the children's room, but Mr. Mycroft has directed that it should be set aside for your personal use."

"I suppose because he thinks I'm a child," Maddy said smiling at Mrs. Winslow who said nothing.

"I shall leave you now," she said. "Ring if you need anything."

Maddy sat in one of the recliners by the darkened fireplace and wondered what it would be like to grow up in such a place. She couldn't. Everything seemed surreal. Not just this place, but her life on the street as well. It was as if the dream of her mother had reset her expectations for life.

She had been born ordinary, average, normal. She had had grandparents and friends, had attended sporting events and taken music lessons. Then her father had died, and they had moved to Mom's old hometown where she had met that man and married him and he had abused her verbally and physically and Maddy had started to question her worth. All through middle school and high school, they had made her feel like she was nothing, but she had resisted until she came to live on the streets. Then she knew that it was true. She was nothing.

Then Sherlock had given her a phone and a job, and she had felt like she was someone again. Sitting in this magnificent house, what was she now? She had lost her job and her independence. She had become a kept woman. Her fate tied to Mycroft's like the worst fifties housewife, except she didn't have to clean. At least there was that. But her mother had told her once, " _Don't let other people define you Maddy. Don't let other people limit you. Follow your heart, and it will lead you true_."

The phone rang. Maddy stared at it for a second, and then realized that it was probably Mrs. Winslow telling her when to expect lunch. She walked over and picked it up.

"Madeline." It was Mycroft's voice on the line.

"Mycroft? Hello."

"You are there, wonderful."

"Of course I'm here, where else would I be?"

"Good. I just wasn't certain that you would still be there."

"I told you that I would be waiting."

"Yes, thank you, I should be home for tea."

"I guess I'll see you then," Maddy said.

"Fine ... goodbye Madeline."

"Goodbye, Mycroft."

Madeline turned around and noticed her reflection in a small mirror. She was smiling. It surprised her. Maddy's stomach growled. Maddy suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to eat the breakfast that Ann had brought her. She left the room and walked down the hall to Mycroft's room. The plate of food was gone, so she backtracked to the door where Mrs Winslow had said the kitchens were, and she entered.

There were two kitchen staff. Most of the time they only cooked for the cleaning staff because Mycroft usually came home late, if at all, and he rarely entertained. They were shocked at first and tried to force Maddy out because she was a guest until she talked them into letting her stay by telling them her Maman Mildred's special lemon custard was sure to be Mycroft's new favorite dish.

Mrs. Jones was the chef, and Katy was her assistant. They had been cooking low calorie meals lately because Mr. Mycroft was always on some diet or another.

"Forget the rabbit food," Maddy told them. "If you cook him that diet stuff, he'll just find a way to cheat by eating out. Give me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to tide me over, and we can start making that custard."

Maddy spent the morning in the kitchen. The custard somehow got converted into Lemon Meringue Pie. Maddy was laughing. She had forgotten how much she liked working in a kitchen. Most of her fondest childhood memories were of those times.

"Can you tell me?" Maddy said, "Where someone could learn to cook like this, I mean professionally?"

"Chef's school is where you want to go," Katy said.

"Do they require a high school diploma?" she asked.

"Do you mean a 14-19 diploma? I don't think so," she said. "Not all of them at least. How old are you?"

"Katy!" Mrs. Jones chastised her. "That's rude."

"Oh I don't mind," Maddy said. "I'm nineteen, apparently."

"Don't you know?" Katy asked.

'Yes, but I sort of forgot my last birthday."

"You did?" Katy said. "Then we should bake you a birthday cake."

Just then the door opened and Mrs. Winslow arrived. Kate suddenly looked busy.

"Miss Maddy," she said, "we've just been informed that Mr. Mycroft is on his way home for luncheon. You might want to change."

"Why would I..." Maddy began until she looked down and noticed that the red dress was now coated with flour. "Of course."

Maddy went to the room where they had placed her when she arrived and found that all of the clothes from the hotel were in the closet. She took off her flour covered clothes and rolled them up placing them on a table, then she took a shower. Hope sprang inside her like sunlight at dawn. She was thinking about a future. For years she had lived without a future, taking each day as it came, but talking to Kate and Mrs. Jones she had decided what she wanted to do with her life. She would learn to be a chef. She let the warm water stream over her until she remembered that Mycroft was on his way home. She walked out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her waist. She entered the bedroom just as Mycroft walked in.

"Hello," she said with a silly grin on her face. Mycroft said nothing. He just walked over to her and removed her towel.

* * *

 

The phone rang and Mycroft rolled over Maddy to pick it up. "Yes, Mrs. Winslow? Could you keep it in the warmer for now. I think we'd like to eat closer to teatime. Yes. Thank you Mrs Winslow." He hung up with a frown on his face.

Maddy looked up at him. Her arms clasped over her chest. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I heard giggling in the background. I'll have to have some words with the staff." Mycroft replied sternly.

"Oh Mycroft, let them be happy for you. It must be boring for them, taking care of an empty house. Let them have their fun."

"But it's not dignified," he said.

"And having me for lunch is?" Maddy said. "I think that deserves a laugh."

Mycroft looked down his long nose at her and pushed her arms to the side. Then he lay beside her with his head on the pillow.

"Are you going back to work?" she asked.

"Not today, but I have a cabinet meeting at eight tomorrow," he said raising his hand to trace the line of her cheek. Maddy put her head against his chest. The smell of musk and aftershave was wonderful.

She looked down at him. "You're so pale," she said, "do your legs ever see the sun?"

"Not usually," he said, "but if you'd like, we could try the country house. There's a swimming pool."

"But doesn't your mother live there?" Maddy asked.

"Yes," Mycroft said.

Maddy put her head back on his chest. "We better get dressed. I made us a pie."

"You made one?" Mycroft asked.

"Of course, what else do you expect me to do alone for hours," Maddy said smiling as she rolled out of bed. She walked over to the wardrobe "Can you tell me what kind of clothes I'm supposed to wear for tea?" Mycroft walked over to stand beside her. Maddy laughed.

"What?" he asked self-consciously.

"It's just you still have your socks on, and those garters are hilarious."

"I thought that garters were sexy."

"On women, yes."

Mycroft raised his nose and reached into the wardrobe pulling out a blue dress. Try this. He said removing his socks and garters as he headed for the shower. Maddy laid out her clothes and then followed him.

It was a funny sight, Mycroft in a pink robe looking both ways to avoid anyone seeing him make a dash for his bedroom, but it was necessary. Dressing was such a complicated thing for him. Half an hour later, Maddy was sitting in the private dining room eating the pie with her fork in her left hand because her right one was holding Mycroft's.

 

 

They retired to the children's room and sat side by side on the sofa. "So what did you do today?"

"Meetings," Mycroft said. "Can't talk about it, official secrets act. What did you do today?"

"Oh I don't have to tell you," Maddy said, "you can't afford my thoughts."

Mycroft smiled and reached into his waistcoat pocket. He pulled out a penny and handed it to her. Maddy held the copper coin in her hand, he must have asked someone to get it for him because she knew that he hadn't gone near a store or a bank today.

"So what were you thinking of today?" he asked.

Maddy leaned on his shoulder and looked up at the clouds painted on the ceiling. She stared at one of the birds. It looked like it might be an angel. "I was thinking of going to cooking school after I leave here." Mycroft stiffened and stared at her. "Not sure yet how to pay for it, but I like cooking. I had forgotten how much."

Mycroft's thin lips pushed together, and she glimpsed the tip of his tongue before he took a breath and said, "Are you leaving?"

She smiled and leaned over to hug him. "I'm just talking," Maddy said, "I'm not planning to go anywhere for a long time. Not if I can help it."

Mycroft relaxed back onto the couch. He put an arm around her shoulder, but a few minutes later, he stood. "I have some work to do," he said. "I'll be in my study."

Maddy sat alone reading **Great Expectations** which she had found on the bookshelf. She punched at her pillow but it was nowhere near as comfortable as Mycroft was. Without Mycroft there, she was incredibly bored. She went to the phone and called John.

"Hello," John said.

"Hello, this is Maddy."

She didn't know how, but she could hear his grin. "So Maddy, how's Mycroft?"

"He's fine. I'm fine too."

"Good," John said. "Is Suzanna's last name Miles, because I've got a lead?"

"Yes!" Maddy said. "It is Miles. I remember now. We joked about how many miles apart we would be when she left."

"Did you name a number of miles?"

"Excuse me?" Maddy asked.

"If I knew how far away she went, it just might help with locating her, stupid thought. Well, I'll keep on it. You have ...fun," he said.

"Stop smiling!" she said before hanging up the phone.

Just then there was a knock on the door and Ann looked in. "Miss Maddy, Master Mycroft has asked for you in his study."

 

 

Maddy entered Mycroft's study and looked around. It was a high ceilinged room full of books. The chairs were leather with gold studs. The curtains were rich tapestry. Maddy looked, but there were no pictures of ducks on the wall. For some reason she thought there might be ducks. Mycroft sat behind the desk, a serious expression on his face.

"Please sit down Madeline," he said.

Maddy sat in the chair across from the desk. She pulled the chair closer so that she could reach out and lay her hand on top of his. He pulled it away, took out an envelope, and slid it across to her.

Maddy opened the envelope to find a check book and photographs of some posh flat. "What is this?" she asked.

Mycroft did not meet her eyes. "I am reminded that we have not yet formalized our employment agreement. I have taken the liberty of securing a flat for you. It is not far, and it has excellent security. No need to fear kidnappers there. I've opened a bank account in your name with an advance for you. I hope that the amount is adequate. We'll have to go to the office to fill out the full agreement, as a notary will need to be involved. Luckily my secretary..."

Maddy put her hand on his. "Mycroft," she said. "I'm not going to work for you. I'm already working for your brother, remember?"

"And where is he?" Mycroft asked pointedly.

"I can't say," Maddy said pushing back the checkbook and the picture.

Mycroft pushed them back across the desk to her.  "They're yours," he said, "If you want them. You obviously want to go off on your own, and you can't live there without money. There will be more if you need it."

Maddy stood up and walked around the desk. "Mycroft, what is this about? This wasn't your first time, I could tell, so that's not an excuse. The drugs are out of your system. Why are you trying to buy me off like some ...mistress in a bad TV drama?"

Mycroft nodded his head apologetically. "This situation, the kidnappings, were my fault. If I hadn't put you in harm's way, you wouldn't have been forced to...you wouldn't have been endangered. I just realized when you said that you wanted to go, that..."

"I don't want to go Mycroft," Maddy said. "I like this. I like you. I was just talking about possibilities. I know how things go. I'm in the wrong place, and soon enough you'll realize it and give me my marching orders. I knew that from the start. I just suddenly realized that I didn't have to just go back and live on the street. That I could do something with my life even without my degree. That it is possible to get back on my feet. I don't feel like a nobody anymore. I feel, useful again, and I wanted to share that with you. To tell you that I'll be okay even when you ask me to go."

"I don't want you to go," Mycroft said. "Will you please ... stay?"

Mycroft Holmes was not a overly talkative man. He tried to get his point across with as few words as possible. Maddy focused on his face. His eyes were questioning, imploring. His mouth slightly open. This was a man used to ordering people around and yet he was asking. Maddy realized that this was a much more important question than it appeared to be. He was seriously asking her to remain in the house with him. There was no qualifier like, for the rest of the week, or until I get tired of you. He was asking her to move into his home, permanently.

Maddy sucked in a breath. It didn't make sense for a homeless woman to move in with someone essential to the British government. She wouldn't even pass a security screening, much less know what to do if guests ever came over. It scared her to think of all of the trouble that she could get into. She was afraid of posh neighborhoods, and security guards, and money.

She closed her eyes. She should step back. Remember who she was. Remember that she owned nothing here. She shouldn't let herself get spoiled just because of a passionate fling. She opened her eyes and looked at Mycroft. He was starting to slump forward. He had read her expression and was trying and failing to keep from showing how disappointed he felt.

Suddenly Maddy's mother's voice rang in her ears. " _Don't let other people define you Maddy. Don't let other people limit you. Follow your heart, and it will lead you true_."

She smiled and knelt down taking his hands in hers. "I'll stay. I want to stay ...with you." Mycroft grinned and hugged her to his chest.


	9. Mistress

_A typical morning_

Maddy opens her eyes and stares at the alarm clock. Five minutes to go. She always wakes before the alarm. She is used to waking before the sun to avoid things such as garbage trucks or angry store owners. She turns over and looks at the sleeping face of Mycroft Holmes. He sleeps on his back. Maddy remembers hearing some poem about kings sleeping on their back. She can't remember it now. Mycroft's face looks odd in his sleep. His long nose and arched forehead lie still in a way that it never does when he is awake. For a moment she thinks of the rigor of death, but then she sees his lips move. She pulls herself up and over and kisses them so lightly that he does not wake.

When the alarm goes off, Maddy rolls out of bed. She never touches Mycroft's clock, because turning off his clock is part of his routine, and he gets very fussy when his routines are disturbed. She turns back and watches as his eyelids flutter and half open. He pulls himself up and touches the alarm clock carefully turning on the snooze function, then he lays back on the bed arms outstretched, eyes open staring at the roof of his canopy bed. Maddy asked him once what he was doing, and he told her that he spends the first ten minutes of each day rearranging his mind palace. She doesn't really understand what he means, but she knows that he doesn't like to be touched then, so she puts on her slippers and robe, and quietly slips out of the room, paddling down the hall to her own.

Maddy showers quickly, drying herself and trying out perfumes before putting on something from the closet. Mycroft likes to see her in nice pastel suits or tailored dresses in the morning. Sometimes she appeases him, but today she chooses a pant suit and trainers. She puts on a pair of stud earrings and checks to see that her mother's necklace is still on. She reaches out and touches the citrine bracelet and the pepper necklace sitting in a bowl on her vanity while silently saying a prayer for Abud and his brother.

Opening her eyes, she grabs a brush and rushes back to Mycroft's room throwing herself down on the empty bed as she brushes. Maddy loves to watch Mycroft dress. He's so particular about it. Meticulous in his choice of every garment. She is learning to read his moods by his clothing choice. A gold tie represents privilege and tradition. A red one means forward thinking and sternness. Those are the colors that he wears the most. The subtleties of fabric and pattern are beyond her, but she knows they mean something in his mind. She wonders if he chooses the pattern to please himself, or if he picks them to affect others. Probably a bit of both.

She watches as he comes out of the bathroom, always in a robe, never a towel alone. He puts on his boxers and walks into the closet to choose his suit. Maddy can't tell the difference between his suits, but Mycroft insists that the cut of one and the fabric of another send very different messages. Mycroft puts on his trousers and shirt and then walks to the door opening it and reaching down to pick up the shoes that he has left out for polishing. Today he carries them into the closet and puts them on a shelf beside a host of other brown and black leather shoes. Picking a black pair instead to wear today.

He goes back into the bathroom to shave and comb his hair, and then he puts on the rest of his suit. He gives himself one last look in the mirror, and then turns toward the door waiting as Maddy passes him his pocket watch. They've done it so often now it's become almost a ritual. He pays her with a light kiss that still has the power to curl her toes, before leaning back, attaching the buttonhook, and slipping the watch into his waistcoat pocket. She smiles at him remembering the night before when putting the watch on the table was the first step in their other ritual where she undresses him.

They breakfast in the formal dining room because Mycroft likes to sit by the giant chess pieces there. Maddy sits beside him and says things to amuse and mildly irritate him. "So what country are you planning on dominating today?" Maddy asks as she spears a sausage with her fork.

"I don't plan on dominating any countries today," Mycroft says. "None in particular at least."

"I suppose you don't have to plan it. It just happens," Maddy replies. "Oh, and we got a call yesterday from the Diogenes club."

"Yes, what did they want?" Mycroft asks opening the newspaper to the international section.

"They wanted to know if you were sick. Apparently your chair hasn't been sat in for over a week. I suppose that it's getting lonely."

Mycroft glances at her over the newspaper, and then turns the page. "Perhaps I will stop by for a few hours after work today."

"Oh really?" Maddy says. "Mrs Winslow tells me that my shipment of French lingerie should arrive this afternoon. I'll have to try them all on to see if they fit. Too bad you won't be there."

"I suppose that the club can do without me for one more night," he says folding the paper and placing it down on the table, "after all, that chair isn't going anywhere. Oh! but I just remembered. I have a security council meeting. I'll be late coming home."

"How late?"

"Don't expect me for dinner. I'll eat out."

"Watch that rich food, or I'll have to sew elastic into your waistband."

"Now don't you start making fun of my weight," he said. "Sherlock always used to do that. Where is he by the way?" Maddy smiles taking a sip in silence.

Mycroft glances at his watch. "Time to go," he says snapping it closed with a click. Maddy walks him to the door. He puts on his coat, and she passes him his umbrella before giving him another kiss. Sometimes it's just a peck on the cheek. Sometimes she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down so far that he drops the umbrella to put his arms around her back and hold her. Today it is somewhere in-between. He gives a little smile turning up the corners of his lips before walking out of the door which she closes behind him before turning to go to the kitchen.

_Maddy's day  
_

Maddy went to the kitchen and put on one of her aprons. She has a weakness for aprons. She has five of them now. She bought the first one, a large white one, because she was terrified of getting her expensive clothes dirty, but now it has become a sort of obsession. Today's apron is a red one that says "Kiss the cook".

Maddy, Katy and Mrs. Jones chop the vegetables for the staff's lunch. For a house nominally for one person there is quite an army to feed: The butler, the head housekeeper and occasionally her nine year old son who attends school nearby, a chauffeur, Ann, Marie, and two to five security men depending on the time of year, and what the political situation is. They weren't all technically 'his' security, but his house serves as some sort of secondary security hub in a network that Maddy very quickly realized she didn't want to know more about.

That afternoon, Mrs. Jones was taking her to meet a friend who owned a cooking school. For once Maddy got to go out without the car. Mycroft was insistent that she never went out unescorted, and usually this meant taking the car. Today, they simply told security where they were going, and took public transportation.

It was strange standing in the tube now. Before she had been afraid that people would look at her torn clothes and try to beat her up. Now she was afraid they might try to steal her purse. As they walked up the steps to the culinary school, Maddy remembered how much she missed the fresh air. She had been inside too long.

The woman who ran the school met them in her office. She said that normally they did require a diploma for entry, but they would accept a record of culinary apprenticeship _in lieu_ of a diploma. Mrs Jones agreed to take her on as apprentice, and they walked out of the building, forms in hand passing happily through a cloud of delicious smells.

Maddy was beaming as they boarded the train to go back to Mycroft's place. She thanked Mrs. Jones profusely, then her phone rang. It was a new phone, a gift from Mycroft, and quite expensive. "Hello," she said.

"Maddy?" the voice on the phone was shaky and low. She almost couldn't hear it over the background noise.

"Yes, who is it?" she said loudly.

"Maddy, It's John. Can you please come over. I think...I think that I'm having a danger night."

 

 

Maddy opened the door and rushed up the stairs of 221B to see John sitting dejectedly in his chair. He looked up at her and then turned back to stare at the empty chair across from him. The two chairs sat directly across from each other for ease of conversation. Now there was no one for John to talk to. He stared at the empty chair and sank lower in his own.

"John, what happened?" Maddy asked dropping on the carpet to look into his down-turned eyes.

"Thanks for coming Maddy," he said, "it's just, I didn't know who else to call. I was looking at my blog, and a reminder popped up. Today is the anniversary of my moving into this apartment. It was the day after I met Sherlock for the first time."

Maddy put a hand on the edge of the chair. John placed his hand on his head and pushed back the hair at his brow. "I was just thinking of how much my life has changed since then, since Sherlock. I can remember how I came from across town because he said that it might be dangerous, and I found him on that couch overdosing on nicotine patches. He was always alternating between lethargy and over-excited puppy. I could hardly keep up with him.

"It's not fair. It's not fair that he's gone! If I could see him again, I don't know if I'd kill him or kiss him. Actually I do, I'd kill him for leaving me this way. I know it doesn't make any sense. Nothing makes sense anymore. I hate it. I hate this empty half-life that I've descended to. It's like his boredom has infected me, and I can't find anything worth getting up for anymore."

"John," Maddy said, "It's okay. It's okay."

"No it's not!" John yelled. "I am so far from okay, I don't know what okay looks like any more. I just ...hurt."

John's head dropped back down to his hand and Maddy patted his shoulder. Just then she got a text from Mycroft's security asking where she was. She shut off her phone.

"John. It's this place," Maddy said. "You need to get out, do new things. get your own apartment."

"But this place, it was ..."

"Yes John, it _was_. In the past it was a place where you both lived. Sherlock wouldn't want you to stop living just because he was gone. He wants you to be happy. If this place is too painful, stay somewhere else for a while."

"I don't know, I just...I just miss him," John said his eyes glittering.

Maddy put her arms around him. "There, there love," she said cradling his head. "All will be well." John shuddered but would not cry.

 

 

The next morning Maddy walked in just as Mycroft was finishing breakfast. He sipped his orange juice and pursed his lips as she sat down. Marie brought out a plate for her, and she thanked her before turning to Mycroft who seemed to be examining the financial page with interest.

"How was John?" he asked.

Maddy sighed. "Not that good. He's been wallowing. Sometimes I want to kill Sherlock for what he did, making him watch like that."

She waited for Mycroft to make the customary, ' _and where exactly would you go to do that?_ ' jibe, but it did not come. Instead he pointedly kept his head turned away as he said, "This isn't the first time that you've spent the night with John Watson."

Maddy turned her shoulders to face him and stared. "Mycroft Holmes, are you jealous?" she asked.

He glanced at her once, and she could see his eyebrow knitting. "I left my watch in my waistcoat," he said. "I had to call down to the laundry to get it back."

Maddy smiled knowing that he had missed more than his pocketwatch. She leaned over and put her arms around him kissing his pouting lips, while trying not to ruffle his coat.

Just then Mrs. Winslow entered. She waited politely for Maddy to finish before telling Mycroft that he was urgently needed at the ministry. Mycroft rose and dashed off putting on his coat and umbrella. At the door he looked back and smiled holding her chin with his knuckles to get a better look at her face before he turned and walked away.

After getting showered and dressed Maddy went to the kitchen and Katy rushed toward her excitedly showing her a book of exotic birthday cakes. "Look what I found," she said. "Tell me which one you like the best, and I'll make it for you."

"Oh these are much too fancy for just Mycroft and me," Maddy said looking at one cake covered with a sheet of chocolate and topped with a cage of woven candy.

"Then why don't you have a party," she said. "Invite a few friends over."

"But I don't know that many people," Maddy said.

"You don't need more than a half-dozen. I can't remember us ever having a party here."

"Do you think Mycroft would mind?"

Mrs. Jones turned away from the pot. She said, "I think, missy, that if you showed an interest in having some of the sun, Mr. Mycroft would start investigating how to get it shipped here."

Maddy smiled.

* * *

_The party_

Two weeks later. She was bouncing up and down in her green dress with the impossible train. Mycroft had insisted on this dress. The same one that she had thrown on in the hotel so long ago. The doorbell rang and John was shown in. Maddy felt silly, but she visibly relaxed when his eye's widened. "Holy Jesus and Mary, I like the dress," John said.

"Thanks," Maddy said, "and thanks for coming." He walked forward to shake her hand, but she pushed past it hugging him. "I'm terrified," she whispered into his ear.

"Of what?" John said stepping back. "Frankly I can't think of anything scarier than waking up to Mycroft Holmes every morning, yet you seem to manage it."

Marie was taking the coat of a man that Maddy vaguely recognized. "Maddy, you've met Detective Inspector Lestrade haven't you?"

He reached out his hand, not quite able to stop looking around the room as he talked. "Miss St. Martin," he said. "Pleasure to meet you again. Interesting place. I don't work much in this part of town. Interesting," he said staring at the giant chess pieces.

"Won't you sit down?" Maddy asked. "Dinner will be served shortly."

"Where is Mycroft?" John asked.

"He's on his way," Maddy said, " _'unexpected developments delay_ ' and all that."

The bell rang again and Catherine from the shelter arrived. Her mouth was in a little O shape when she saw her. "Maddy?" she asked hesitantly and Madeline went forward and shook her hand leading her into the dining room. There were introductions. John rose out of his chair and belatedly so did Lestrade. They had all regained their seats when Mycroft came into the room.

Maddy rose, her smile focused on him as he approached. He took her hand and then released it turning to the others. "Good to see you again, John, inspector, and ... I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Catherine Woese," she said. "I run the Riverside homeless shelter. It's so good to meet you Mr. Holmes." She reached out a hand, but he only nodded walking up to the head of the table.

Maddy started to sit beside him, but he pulled out his chair. "You should take the seat of honor, dear. It is your birthday."

"Your birthday?" Lestrade asked, "How old are you?"

"It's not really my birthday," Maddy said. "I just missed having a party before."

"I think that the good inspector is trying to ascertain whether you are of legal age," Mycroft said pushing her chair forward for her. "I can show you the birth certificate if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary," Lestrade said fussing with his napkin which was folded in the shape of a swan.

The meal was only three courses so that they could quickly get to the cake. A monstrous confection despite her insistence. "You've got to have leftovers for us." Katy had said earlier at the staff party. A much happier affair where Mrs. Jones presented her with her first set of cooking knives. A treasure that she kept wrapped in the original box under her bed.

Lestrade kept distractedly asking about the things in the room while Catherine monopolized the conversation telling Mycroft how much they needed more funding for the shelter. He was expert at deflecting her, but Maddy's nerves were on edge.

"Your things are still at the station," Lestrade said, "You can come by anytime to pick them up ...or you could send someone, perhaps."

"I'll get them for you Maddy. You can pick them up next time that you come over," John said.

"Thank You," Maddy replied smiling.

When Catherine started a rant on how the Millennial charity fund needed sponsors, Maddy rose to her feet. "I need to be excused," she said and hurried out.

John found her crying in a curtained alcove in the parlor. "Maddy, are you okay?" he asked.

"No," Maddy said trying to hide the tears on her cheeks. "This is all going wrong."

He put his hands on her shoulder. "What's wrong? Everything is excellent."

"No it isn't," Maddy said. "This is stupid. I'm not a fine lady who can have a party in a place like this. That woman looks at me and sees a pig dressed up as a doll, and that's what I am. I can't do this. I wanted to impress Mycroft with how mannered I could be, but I was a fool to think that this would ever work." The tears redoubled, and Maddy looked around for something to wipe her eyes with before they ruined her dress. John used his own sleeve, and then pulled her into an embrace, and she dug her face into his shoulder as he patted her back.

The door to the room opened and light streamed in behind the straight silhouette of Mycroft Holmes. John turned his head and Maddy looked up. No one could stand as still as Mycroft could when he was surprised. Maddy dried her eyes and stepped out of John's arms. "Mrs Woese has gone," he said. "I promised her a generous check if certain documents arrived on my desk first thing tomorrow morning."

They entered the dining room to find Lestrade touching the spear of one of the chess pieces. He started guiltily. John turned to look at Mycroft who was frowning, his hands behind his back. He rushed forward and took the edge of Lestrade's coat. "If you don't mind, I think that we'll be going now too," John said. "Good bye Maddy, Mycroft. Thanks for a pleasant evening."

As the front door was closed behind them, and the staff entered to clear off the table, Mycroft walked out of the room. He went into his study, and Maddy followed him.

"Close the door will you please," Mycroft said facing away from her.

Maddy closed the door looking back at him. "You sound like... I don't know like a parent about to chastise their child."

"Interesting choice of words don't you think?" Mycroft said. "A parent and a child. I suppose that I am old enough to be your father. Strange of me to ever think of myself differently is it not? but then again... I suppose that I also am not immune to weakness. In the end, what am I but a lonely, naive man, who met a woman clever enough to make him feel special."

"What are you saying Mycroft?" Maddy asked.

"Did you do the same for John Watson? Comfort him when he was vulnerable? I suppose that anything is better than a life on the streets. Even staying with an old man simply because he has money."

Maddy's lips turned into a hard line, "Mycroft Holmes, what exactly are you accusing me of?"

Mycroft turned back to her. His lips were turned down at the corners. "What would Moriarty think of the iceman now? I wonder."

"Mycroft?"

Suddenly Mycroft raised his eyebrows and his mouth fell open. "Or perhaps ... maybe I was fooled from the very first...When you left to go to John's house before, I saw you stop and talk to a man on the street. Was he your contact? Sending messages for you, but to whom? Moran? Did you ever really work for Sherlock, or did you simply take that phone from the person who did? Amazing how successful it's been for you. One stolen phone and you not only have John Watson in the palm of your hand, you also have taken in the great Mycroft Holmes. Very clever, very clever indeed."

"I don't know what's going on in your head, Mycroft, but I do know that I don't like it," Maddy said. "I don't even remember talking to someone on the way to John's house, and I certainly don't remember you being there. Were you having me followed? What kind of jealous, possessive sod has his girlfriend followed wherever she goes?"

Mycroft looked at her with hard eyes. He walked around the desk and sat in his chair. Maddy rushed forward putting her hands flat on his desk and leaning over to yell at him. "I do NOT work for Moriarty, and I have never heard of this Moran fellow, and If you are looking for fault, I would remind you that it was _YOU_ , Mycroft Holmes, who scooped me up off of the street against my will in the first place!

"I came here to apologize for inviting Mrs. Woese because she spent the entire time pestering you for money. I came to say that I was sorry for not living up to your expectations because I've never been trained to entertain in this kind of environment, and I'm not good enough for you, but I've changed my mind. Maybe it's _you_ who is not good enough.

"It's not like I've never seen possessive, jealous jerks who imagine all sort of things and beat their wives for talking to the grocery store attendant or the mailman. I'm sorry to say that young as I am, I already know a great deal about that kind of man, and I was a fool not to notice the signs in you.

"You don't see things as they are. You've built this model in your brain, and you are arrogant enough to think that the world you've built is the real world. You've never lived in the real world. You've never even seen it. You have your assistants and your security to keep it far away from you. No wonder you are paranoid. No wonder you can't understand the emotions of real people.

"Instead, you let your fantasies take over. Yes, I have comforted John Watson. I did it because Sherlock Holmes asked me to, and because he needed someone, and I am decent enough to feel compassion for his suffering. Comforting means just that. Being there with someone when they are sad. It is exactly what he was doing for me in the parlor when I left the room after having a panic attack because Mrs Woese made me feel like I was still a homeless nobody. Comforting does not mean rolling around on the floor having sex, but even if it did, a mature person would ask me about my actions and feelings and not simply try to deduce them from surveillance camera data and too many readings of John le Carré novels.

"I'm sorry, Mycroft Holmes, but I didn't come here because of your money, or to pump you for information, as if you've ever told me anything that you shouldn't. I was standing right there when you asked me to stay. YOU ... ASKED... ME. But if you feel that I've inserted myself into your life under false pretenses, that I'm secretly passing information to someone else, then all that I can say is that I've greatly overestimated your intelligence.

"What secret information have I gleaned from all of this espionage I'm supposedly doing? What kind of boxers you wear? What your favorite dish is? If that's what you really think then I'm sorry. With your permission, Dad, I'm going to bed. Tomorrow I'll take my things and go. Goodnight Mycroft," Maddy said and walked out of the study closing the door behind her.


	10. Celebrity

Maddy lay in the children's room with her elbow over her eyes. Her high-heeled shoes had been discarded beside the fireplace, and her bare feet stuck out over the couch arm. This night had certainly not gone as planned. How had it degenerated so fully? It seemed ridiculous and yet inevitable.

There was a knock at the door. It opened slowly, and Mycroft entered the room. He stood beside the couch so that she could just see his dangling watch chain through the space under her arm.

"My apologies," he said. "You were quite correct. It was I who instigated virtually every act in our relationship. I was not tricked or coerced. I had no illusions about your background, nor did I make any demands for exclusivity between us. My ...jealousy was uncalled for. Forgive me."

Maddy dropped her arm and looked up. She could see Mycroft's stiff lips jutting out beyond his chin as he stood above her, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. He bowed his head to look at her, and then he took something from his pocket and draped it around her neck. Maddy reached up and touched the necklace. She sat up, and he fastened it for her. Rising, she walked over to the mirror and examined it. The necklace held seven emeralds surrounded by diamonds. The middle one was bigger than her thumb and had a center that sparkled blue. She had heard that blue emeralds were the most expensive.

"I never had a chance to give you my gift," Mycroft said. "I wanted to see how it looked with this dress, and I see that they go together very well. I know how much you like jewelry, and I hoped that perhaps, you would find some value in something that I had given you. "

Maddy's mouth caught in an "O" as she stared at the jewels. "Exactly which museum did you have to rob to get this?" she asked. "Did they count all of the crown jewels when they were returned, or did you sneak this out while they weren't looking?"

Mycroft smiled. "Do you like it?"

Maddy lifted her hair turning her head. "But Mycroft, this is too fine, too expensive. Where would I wear it? "

"You can wear it around the house. It's yours. Do with it what you will."

"But, besides this dress ... I have nothing in the closet that is good enough to wear with it."

"Then I suppose you should wear nothing at all," Mycroft said with a smirk, then he nodded his head, glancing at her refection in the mirror as he asked, "Maddy, you never told me. Do you forgive me?"

Maddy said nothing. She simply turned toward him and dropped her dress to the floor.

* * *

 

Maddy looked quite different from her normal self with her hair swept up and fastened by a gold pin shaped like a feather. Her pale pink tailored suit was quite smart and complemented Mycroft's grey one. They leaned their heads together so that Mycroft could whisper to her. "That man there is the foreign minister," he said. "The man next to him is Subramanian, head of a multinational corporation based in Dubai. He wants to import pharmaceuticals from South-East Asia."

"Pharmaceuticals?" Maddy asked.

"Prescription drugs is what he claims to sell, but he actually runs one of the world's largest opium rings. He knows that I oppose him, so he will try to get to me through you."

"I'm not sure of the etiquette, Mycroft, if he makes a pass at me, am I permitted to spit in his face?"

Mycroft raised the side of one lip slightly. "No dear, I am afraid not. And here is someone that I need to talk to, can you find something of interest at the tea table for a few minutes?"

"Certainly love," Maddy said walking gracefully across the room. Maddy was proud of her walk. Mrs. Winslow had spent countless hours working on it with her. They had finally found one for her that was unhurried and yet purposeful. She tacked a noncommittal smile onto her face.

As she looked at a selections of sweets, a woman in blue turned to her. "Hello, I don't think that we've met. I am Frances Simpson-Stuart head of the North London Ladies Botanical Society. And you are ...?"

"Madeline St. Martin," she returned. "Nice to meet you."

"Ah, you're American," she said. "So very pleased to meet you. I had heard that Mr. Holmes was engaged, but frankly I did not believe it. He has been one of our most resolute bachelors." She gave a small laugh. "I was wondering if you'd like to attend one of our meetings, we meet on the first Thursday of each month."

Just then Madeline felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Subramanian standing beside her. "Good day. I was hoping to have a talk with you Miss St. Martin."

"Excuse me," Mrs. Simpson-Stuart replied a bit ruffled at the interruption, "Mr..."

"Subramanian," he replied. "I wouldn't think that you'd have time to play at garden parties, Mrs. Simpson-Stuart. Didn't you just lose a fortune in a failed Russian pyramid scheme?"

"Why, I ..." she began.

"If I were you, I'd hurry home. Your husband is currently sleeping with his mistress on Bond street, but he's been secretly replacing your jewelry with paste. I'd put them away before he arrived home if I were you."  Mrs Simpson-Stuart gasped, and then turned and left. Maddy looked at the brown man with a face like a barracuda. He apparently had a personality to match. She pointedly said nothing. "Ah, Miss St. Martin, I have so wished to meet you. The woman who tamed Mycroft Holmes must be formidable indeed," he said, his fingers exploring her shoulder.

"Good afternoon," Maddy said stepping out of his grasp and extending a hand to shake. He reached out to touch her hand caressing the palm before shaking it. She pulled her hand out of his grasp resisting the urge to wipe it on her skirt. "How may I help you today, Mr. Submaranian? Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"Yes, thank you," he said and Maddy turned away from him picking up a tea cup. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye afraid to let him out of her sight. He was smiling. The tips of his pointed teeth jutting past his lip. "I find you fascinating," he said. "We were all certain that Mycroft Holmes had no heart, and then someone comes out of nowhere to steal it. What are you exactly?"

"Milk and sugar?" Maddy asked.

"Cream, no sugar."

"Lemon?"

"No thank you."

"Here you go, and if you will please excuse me..." Maddy said turning to escape his company. His hand darted out clasping her arm firmly. "I was hoping that you would take a message to Mr. Holmes," he said.

Maddy reached over and pried his fingers off of her arm. "He's right over there, or if you like, his secretary can make you an appointment."

"Tell him that if he opposes me then he will regret it," Subramanian hissed.

Maddy laughed. "Are we in grade school, passing threats back and forth like angry children? I'm sorry Mr. Subramanian, but I don't feel like playing games today. Enjoy your tea." Maddy said and walked off in search of Mycroft. Maddy didn't like bullies. She didn't like them at all.

That evening as she dangled her feet out of the tub in Mycroft's bathroom, she told him what she had said. Mycroft stopped in the motion of tying his tie. "Did you really say that?" he asked, then he smiled a smug smile, "I don't suppose that he is used to anyone talking to him that way, however you should be careful. Mr. Subramanian is a very dangerous man."

"Dangerous or not, he's a bully. And he's rude."

"It is true, there is no reason that we need be rude, even in matters of international trade."

"Oh and Mycroft, I wanted to tell you that I'll be visiting John tomorrow."

"Oh?"

"I just wanted to tell you so that you have time to schedule someone to follow me. Will it be Briant this time? You used Walter last time and he made a mess of it. I was tempted to wave."

"Very funny dear. I don't have you followed everywhere."

"Liar. You think that I don't know the registration numbers of all of your cars by now?"

"Maddy, I have enemies, Subramanian being one. I don't want you to be endangered again."

"Alright, I see your point with Subramanian, but someday this will have to stop."

"Of course, dear."

"Mycroft, you know that I can tell when you are lying."

He turned to her. "I'll be going to the club tonight. I have things to think about. Don't wait up for me."

"Alright dear," Maddy said. "Tell your chair 'hello' for me, and don't eat too many of those exotic sweets. You are getting a little pudgy around the middle."

"Not meaning to be rude, dear, but you've been looking a little rounder since you've started cooking those rich sauces."

"But it's my homework!" she said frowning.

He bent over and kissed her frown away. She put a dollop of soap bubbles on his nose and smiled at him.

 

 

At John's the next day, Maddy looked through her bag which he had brought  back from the police. "I threw out the food." John said, "It was pretty dried up, I hope that you don't mind."

"No I don't mind. Thank you." Maddy said unfurling the black scarf and examining it.

"And I also have something else that you might like," John said handing her a note card. It read Suzanna Miles and had an address and phone number.

Maddy screamed clapping her hands together. "You found her?"

"Yes, she's attending Uni in Manchester."

"Is this really her number?" Maddy said, " I can just call her, and she'll be there?"

"As far as I know," John said.

Maddy pulled out her phone. It was glossy and expensive. She stared at it and then put it back into her bag. "Can I borrow your phone?" she asked John.

He started and then said, "Yeah," and passed his phone to her.

Maddy dialed. On the third ring she picked up.

"Hello."

"Hello, is this Suzanna Miles?"

"Yes, who is this."

"It's Maddy, Maddy St. Martin"

"Maddy who?"

"We used to play together at Maman Mildred's when we were little."

"Maddy...Maddy! Oh my God Maddy! Where are you?"

"I'm in London."

"Well I'm in Manchester, but you know that, you called me. Oh Maddy, how are you doing? When did you arrive?"

"Actually I've been in the UK for quite some time, but I only just now tracked down your number."

"Maddy, I really can't believe it. Just yesterday I was thinking of Maman. I'm sorry I didn't send you a funeral notice, but I didn't know your address. I'm in school now, but if you can get up to Manchester you're welcome to bed down in my flat."

"Well, I'm a bit tied up in things now, but I'll certainly do that soon."

"Great! I hate to rush off, but I have a class. Call me later?"

"Definitely."

"Super! Maddy, I can't believe it's really you. Well, I'll talk to you later. Cheerio!"

"Goodbye Suzanna, talk to you soon." Maddy cut the connection. She was breathing rapidly a huge grin spread across her face. "She remembered me," Maddy said smiling.

"Of course she remembered you. You are very memorable Maddy," John said.

Maddy looked askance at him pursing her lips to keep herself from telling him of the dozens of times that he had walked past her on the street without seeing her when she was homeless. "Thank you, John," she said.

"So Maddy," he began, "how does it feel to be the future Mrs. Mycroft Holmes? Every time I think of it, it still amazes me."

"It amazes me too to tell the truth," Maddy said. "I don't really know what to think of it."

"And did you really meet his mother?"

"Yes, she's actually very nice. I thought that she'd be really mean with me trying to steal away her eldest and all, but I think she thought that he was a lost cause. She's just glad to see him thinking about marriage at all. Carrying on the family name and all that."

"I can see how that would be a concern with Mycroft and Sherlock as sons," John said. Maddy glanced over at John. He had let the name Sherlock slip by without the usual expression of alarm. Maddy walked over and patted him on the shoulder.

"He's taking me to some society todo. I don't understand any of it. I'm just going to try not to make a fool of myself."

"Just do what I used to do with Sherlock," John said. "Stand close to him, smile, and try not to say much."

"Sounds like a plan. Well, I'd better go before Mycroft's security comes knocking," Maddy said hugging John before leaving. She snuck around the corner and jumped into the passenger seat of the car surprising Briant who drove her home.

A week later Maddy sat in a car next to Mycroft. She pulled the fur shawl over the thin straps of her evening dress, "Do I really have to do this?" Maddy asked. "I thought you said that you never went to these functions."

"I don't usually," he said, "but it will be useful to be seen there nonetheless."

"Why?" she asked.

"I have been told that some people have been considering giving me a title."

"What?" she said, "like Sir Holmes? And you want to get it?"

"No," he said. "I mean to dissuade them. I can't remain unobtrusive with my name on the Roll of the Peerage. It would be a disaster."

"Won't going to this function that you don't usually attend look like you're jockeying for the job?" Maddy asked.

"Interesting mental image, Madeline," Mycroft said. "It may appear so, but it is the quickest way to talk to each of those involved, in private."

"So why do you need me?"

"My dear," he said, "an engaged man can hardly go to such a function alone. Besides, it is a chance for me to show you off."

"And an excuse for me to finally wear my necklace," Maddy said.

Mycroft uncharacteristically pulled her close to his side. He lowered his head so that his nose touched her cheek and in a husky voice he said, "You never need an excuse to wear it, Maddy. You can wear it at home whenever you like."

"Or whenever you like," Maddy said with a grin. They kissed. Before long, they had arrived.

There were photographers. Mycroft's security kept them back, but there were interested glances from all around. Maddy had never known what it felt like to be a microbe under a microscope until now.

The hall was large. There was a stage and tables and Maddy panicked. It was only Mycroft's hand on her forearm that kept her from bolting. She did what John said. She stayed close to Mycroft and smiled trying not to look too visibly terrified.

After a half-hour she had calmed down a bit. She found a chair to sit in and decided to stay put waiting for Mycroft to get back from doing his rounds. A man in a black suit with a white ruffled collar sat down in the seat beside her.

"Miss St. Martin is it?" he said, "Maddy St. Martin?"

"Yes, hello," Maddy said trying her best to sound polite.

"Quite a coup for you isn't it to land a big fish such as Mycroft Holmes. Quite an accomplishment for someone who was so recently living on the streets. "

"Excuse me?" Maddy said staring directly at the man who wore a sneering smile above his ruffled collar.

"I met a friend of yours, Mrs. Woese. She told me that some of the highest families donate to her shelter, and she mentioned your name. I wonder what the committee will think when they find out that Mycroft Holmes' fiancee was once Maddy Mohammad, the unwed harlot of a common gangster."

Maddy opened her mouth in shock. Just then Mycroft came to her side. "Bridges," he said, "What have you been saying to my fiancee?"

He looked up into Mycroft's cold face. "Nothing that isn't true," he said.

"He says that he'll tell the committee my background. He wishes to bully you into stepping down."

"Bridges," Mycroft said sternly. "Feel free to tell whomever you wish whatever you like as long as you do it far away from us."

The man rose up from the chair bristling. He turned back and made a parting shot. "I may just do that," he said. "There's a man who has been asking about you and the little woman. I bet that Mr. Subramanian would be pleased to hear about her past."

"Good night," Mycroft said sternly and Bridges walked away.

"But Mycroft, if he knows... can't he use it against you?" Mycroft motioned for her to be quiet and then lowered himself into the chair beside her.

"You mustn't let them fluster you darling," he said. "Bridges is petty. He sees only tiny things such as position and title. He doesn't have a clue who someone like Subramanian really is."

"But Mycroft," she said, her eyes starting to water. Mycroft grabbed her hand and led her away down the hallway and into an empty cloakroom. He wiped the tears from her eyes with his handkerchief.

"You cannot do this, Madeline," he said. "If they see you upset, then you lose. Caring is not an advantage. You need to take a breath, get yourself together and act as if you are far above them, because you are. None of them could have survived half of what you have lived through. You not only survived it, you thrived. You are an amazing woman, Madeline, and I admire you. So go out there and show Bridges that what he says means nothing at all to you. Dazzle them as you dazzle me every day."

Maddy's eyes watered now for a completely different reason. Her heart felt light. No one had ever said anything of the sort to her. To have Mycroft Holmes, the great Mycroft Holmes, say that he admired her... Maddy was walking on clouds. She smiled, dried her tears, and walked out into the crowd. She introduced herself to people and shook hands. In fact, she did so well that it took all of Mycroft's considerable influence to keep them from adding his name to the honors list. That evening she slept clutched to Mycroft's side, his necklace still around her neck.

 

 

Despite Mrs Woese's annoying talkativeness, Maddy couldn't find the words to refuse when she asked her to come to the dedication of the new homeless shelter the next evening.

"It was your fiancee's money that helped us build it, and you used to live here and work here," she said, "Maddy you have to come! Don't you realize how they think of you on the streets? People who thought that they had no chance in life have hope because of your example: A girl like them who went off to marry a rich man. It's like Cinderella. Everyone here is buzzing with it. Please, it will make it that much more special if you can come."

Maddy sat in the car fidgeting. She didn't want to be a celebrity. She didn't know what to do around admirers. She thought of what she would do if she were back on the street and she heard a story of such a woman. She would want to see her. She would want to touch her for luck.

Maddy had asked Ann to go to the bank and get her three dozen two pound coins to pass out. Her purse jingled as shook it. Suddenly her phone rang. She answered.

"Hello Maddy."

"Hello Mycroft. I'm going to the homeless shelter dedication."

"I know," he said. "I just finished work, and I think that I will go with you."

"Really? That would be wonderful, but I'll be late."

"Don't worry. It is customary to be fashionably late to such an event. I'll direct the car to pick me up, shall I?"

Sometime later, the two of them arrived at the new homeless shelter. A modern place of blond wood and metal railings. Mycroft climbed out of the car and Maddy came after him. She turned back to get her purse which she had left in the car, when suddenly light flared off of the windows and a boom deafened her. She turned to see the homeless shelter wrapped in flames. Great beams of wood stood broken jutting up toward the sky. The metal railings had been bent by the explosion, and the roof had collapsed. The fire glowed yellow stretching up to the sky in spires interwoven with columns of thick black smoke.

Maddy stood open-mouthed staring at it. Then Mycroft pushed her into the car, and they rushed away. His phone was in his hand almost before he had gained his seat. "This is Mycroft Holmes. We have a condition five at the New Riverside Homeless Shelter. Mobilize a team immediately copy all of the surveillance tapes for this area. I'm traveling to my house, but I'll meet you at headquarters. Contact me as soon as you have news."

Maddy could hear the sounds of sirens. She was still in shock. "Why?" she said. "Why would anyone blow up a homeless shelter? It makes no sense."

"It was Subramanian," Mycroft said his brows knit in an expression of anger. "This was an assassination attempt."

"But Mycroft? How did he know that you were coming? You didn't decide until just a few minutes ago."

"Not for me," Mycroft said surprised that she didn't understand this at once. "This was an attempt on you. Subramanian blew up the homeless shelter to kill you."

Maddy fell back in her seat, her mouth couldn't close. All she could see was the fire. She thought of little girls hoping to find a bit of luck buried and burning in the ruin. Maddy started to cry.


	11. The Pumpkin Shell

The car dropped them off at home. Mycroft stayed only long enough to talk to security before getting back into the car and rushing away. As he left, Walter came up from the basement and situated himself next to the front door. Maddy went upstairs and changed out of her dress and into a comfortable shirt and trousers. She paced through the hallways rubbing her neck, unable to sleep.

Her phone kept ringing. First it was Mrs. Jones, then Katy, then Ann. They had all known where she was going, and they had seen the fire on the news. She assured them that she was quite all right. She bumped into Mr. Tennison in the kitchen when she was getting herself a cup of cocoa. He told her that she could find a television in the security room, so she pattered down the stairs and knocked on the door.

There were three guards in the house today not counting Walter at the door. They were watching the television which was showing a blazing building.The red flames reflected off of the river illuminating the darkness. Thin streams of water soared in arcs toward the blaze, but they seemed much too small to have any effect on the conflagration.

Little bits of red-backed text flashed across the screen:

_Homeless shelter ablaze._

_Fifteen found dead in riverside fire._

_Accident or act of terrorism?_

Maddy turned away. She left the room and walked down the hall to Sherlock's lab. The concrete walls and stained table seemed comfortingly real to her after an evening which felt like walking in a dream. She found the metal bunk in the corner and lay down upon it. She rolled over onto her back, and on the ceiling she saw scratched the chalk image of a skull.

Was this what Sherlock thought of when he organized his mind palace in the morning? Maddy turned on her side and fell asleep. She woke to the touch of a hand on her arm. Turning, she saw Mycroft's concerned face. He was sitting on the edge of the bunk still in his clothes from the previous night. Maddy sat up and hugged him.

"Madeline, how are you? I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night," he said.

"I'm fine," Maddy said digging her head into his shoulder.

"I am sorry to inform you that Mrs Woese is dead," Mycroft said. "at last count, it was seventeen dead, thirty-five injured. There may be more, but many of the homeless fled the scene before the authorities arrived. "

"What about Subramanian?" Maddy asked.

"We are hot on his trail," Mycroft said. "My people are working around the clock. We _will_ prove that he was the one responsible for this action."

"Then what?"

"Then we will see that justice is served," Mycroft said his face becoming positively scary as his frown lengthened. "I would like for you to remain at home for the next few days for your safety. Subramanian is becoming desperate, and desperate men are prone to lashing out."

"Don't worry," Maddy said. "I don't even have plans to leave this room. I've been kidnapped before, remember?"

Mycroft's lips made the ghost of a smile that vanished almost before she saw it. "I remember," he said kissing her distractedly before rising to shower, change, and go back to work.

Maddy lay back down on the bunk. From then on she lived in the basement in Sherlock's room. Seven days she stayed there. She would go upstairs to cook and eat in the kitchen, working on technique with Mrs. Jones. The security detail changed everyday making it difficult to plan the amount of food to make. They came in with the mutter of walky-talky chatter and would leave suddenly in a group without saying why.

Katy was flustered by all the fuss. "Do you know that they searched my bag when I came in today?" she said. "This is getting out of hand."

"Don't worry," Mrs Jones said calmly. "These alerts never last that long. Before you know it Mr. Mycroft will have found those responsible and everything will be back to normal."

Then the phone rang and Mrs. Winslow came in from her office next door. She turned and said, "Mr. Holmes is coming home for tea."

Maddy ran out of the kitchen. She stood in the hallway waiting until the door finally opened. Mycroft looked tired. He walked in nodding at her as he passed to go to his room. Maddy followed. She sat on his bed and waited while he showered. He came out and dressed in the navy suit that he reserved for home use. "You are not going out again?" Maddy asked.

"Not for some time, no," Mycroft said. "We have him, but things are never as easy as showing the facts, even if they are irrefutable."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"We have proven that it was indeed Subramanian who was responsible for the bombing of the homeless shelter, but he is too well-connected. He will not be tried by an English court. Also, those wronged were of no consequence, so there is not much demand for justice."

Mycroft sat beside her on the bed. "I'm sorry Mycroft," she said, "I know this meant so much to you."

"I would think that it would mean something to you as well," he said. "Your friend, and possibly others that you know, were murdered. Don't you want revenge?"

"What's the point in revenge?" she said. "It never brings anyone back from the dead."

"But it can keep those responsible from threatening the living," he replied stroking her face with his hand. "Subramanian is a persistent man. How am I to keep you safe, my treasure. Shall I lock you up in a pumpkin like Peter?"

Maddy recited the poem:

" _ **Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,**_  


_**had a wife and couldn't keep her,** _

_**put her in a pumpkin shell,** _

_**and there he kept her very well.** _

"That doesn't sound very good, Mycroft. I don't want to be kept a prisoner. I want freedom."

"Security is better," Mycroft said kissing the side of her neck. Mycroft pushed Maddy down onto the bed pinning her wrists so that she couldn't move. "I may hold you still, but in exchange I will give you everything." He lowered his face to hers, his nose stroking the side of her cheek. "Do you want your freedom now?" Maddy could feel Mycroft's coat buttons pressing against her abdomen. His breath was warm with desire. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I tried to protect Sherlock and failed dismally. I won't fail with you, Madeline."

As Mycroft's nose and lips gently caressed the side of her neck, Maddy considered it. It wasn't very much different than her life was now. So what if she never went out alone. Did that really matter? When Maddy was on the streets, she was truly free: free to fail, free to starve, free to die. Was that life so much better? "Mycroft, let me go," she said.

Mycroft stopped, lifting himself up to look at her, then he rolled off of her and sat up. He leaned against the post of the canopy bed. "Madeline," he said. "I don't know what I would do if you were hurt."

"Don't worry, Mycroft," she said. "Until this thing with Subramanian is resolved, I will go or stay as you tell me. Let's eat lunch, we made _Baba ghanoush_. One of the security guards is from Jordan." That evening, the two of them stayed no more than an arms length apart from each other.

They fell into the old routine again. Waking in his bed each morning and saying goodbye at the door. Maddy stayed at home, but she continued cooking. On Thursday, they had a party. Her apprenticeship hours were finished, and she was officially admitted into the cooking school. Maddy hoped that the crisis would be over before the new term began.

As she went to her room to dress for dinner, Mycroft called. "Subramanian is being deported tonight. I will go personally to see that he gets on the boat."

"Take me with you," Maddy said, "I need to see this too."

 

 

The sound of a horn blared in the cold evening as Subramanian's boat prepared to sail. Mycroft and Maddy stood side by side arms touching through their thick black coats as they watched.

A car pulled up, and he disembarked, the man with the face like a barracuda. He walked past them turning to have a last talk with Mycroft. "So, you have won this round, but I have learned something as well. I have learned the soft spot of Mycroft Holmes. Do not think that I will ever forget it. And you, Maddy," he said the word with a leer. "I look forward to seeing you again." He looked her up and down and smiled that smile that showed the points of his teeth before turning away.

Mycroft was standing very still in the way that he does when great calculations were passing through his brain and he had no time to respond to his body. The boat set sail. Subramanian leaned against the railing looking back at them. Maddy could feel his eyes on her as it pulled away. His evil intent was as palpable as the evening fog, just beginning to form in wisps under the stern of the boat. A security man with a headset on leaned over to Mycroft.

"Sir," he said. "He is in position and we have a clear shot. What is your order?"

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. If possible, he stood even more still, then he said, "Do it!"

A sound rang out, and Subramanian fell back onto the boat which continued to sail away. Maddy stepped forward looking as the people crowded around the body. She looked up just catching some movement in the building behind her, then she faced Mycroft. The edge of one lip was turned up in a smile. He glanced at her, but she turned away from him returning with shuddering steps to the car.


	12. The Right to be Happy

Maddy sat in her study, her hand covering her mouth. She had made a decision, but she didn't like it. She walked down the hall to the dining room where Mycroft sat reading reports. He looked up at her face and set the papers aside. "You're upset about Subramanian," he said.

Maddy sat beside Mycroft. "Yes," she replied.

Mycroft rubbed his hand across his scalp smoothing back his hair. "A man like that doesn't give up, and doesn't stop when he's made up his mind. He would have continued the attempts until you were dead. It was the only way to remove him as a threat. Do you understand that?"

"You ordered him killed," Maddy said.

"Yes, and if I had killed Moriarty, Sherlock would never have left Baker Street. Sometimes serving your country means taking decisive action."

"That's what I need to talk to you about," Maddy said. "I'm a weakness for you, Mycroft, a vulnerability. Subramanian said it, and it is true."

"No, you're not. You're my fiancee," he said. "With you, I am happier than I have ever been in my life."

"But is happier better?" she asked. "I have no doubt that the world is a better place without that man in it, but killing him..."

Mycroft interrupted, "Sometimes in the service of one's country ..."

"When you ordered Subramanian killed, did you do it for the British Government, or did you do it for me?"

Mycroft stared back at her in silence.

"You used your power and the resources at your disposal as a vehicle for your own personal revenge, was that the best way to serve your country?"

"Madeline," Mycroft began hesitantly, "There are many shades of gray. Sometimes in the pursuit of what is best for one's country..."

"I don't care about your country, Mycroft. I care about you! The one thing that gives you the most pride is how well you serve the British Government, but you did a piss poor job of it today, and the reason was me. You said it yourself, _'Caring is not an advantage'_. I am a target, Mycroft, a big, public, easy to see target and they will never stop gunning for me, not as long as I'm with you."

Storms fluttered across Mycroft's brows. "You...fear for your safety? My security could be increased. We could make sure that..."

"It's not my own life I care about, Mycroft. Live, die, that was everyday on the streets, but if I were to be killed, if one of your enemies gunned me down, what would you do?"

Mycroft's eyes darkened, "I would use all my power to destroy them."

"Exactly, and if it became known that Mycroft Holmes served his own interests before that of the government, then they would stop trusting you, and you would lose your job. The job that gives you your purpose. The job you worked so hard to create.

"John told me that Sherlock once said ' _you ARE the British government._ ' You hold yourself to a higher standard than other people. You sacrifice your interests for your country. It is one of the things that I admire most about you."

Mycroft's voice cracked, "And does that mean... I don't have a right to be happy?"

Maddy reached out touching both sides of his face with her hands. "How long would we stay happy, love, if you didn't have your work? No one else can do what you do, and if you couldn't do it, it would destroy you. It would tear you apart. Caring for me will hurt you personally and professionally, and I refuse to drag you down into the gutter with me."

Maddy sat back in her seat, but Mycroft reached out for her, taking her hand. His hand was shaking. "Exactly what are you saying, Maddy? Do you...want to postpone the wedding."

"I only want you to be the man that you are meant to be," Maddy said rising from her seat. She let go of his hand, and walked toward the door.

Mycroft stood, "I'm meant to be with you," he said. Maddy looked back at him with sadness in her eyes and shook her head. Then she left and went back to her room. She lay in bed all night without sleeping.

Just before dawn, she heard Mycroft's footsteps patter past her door. Maddy rose and went to Mycroft's room. He was in the shower, so she sat on the edge of his bed and waited. He stared at her when he came out of the bathroom, and then he began to dress in silence. Today, he wore the black tie. As he approached the door, Maddy reached out her hand to give him his watch. He leaned over and kissed her.

His lips came together softly over hers. Then he placed the pocket watch on the bedside table and stepped forward wrapping his arms around her and pushing deeper and deeper into the kiss until they fell back on the bed. Maddy's hair splayed out around her head like a halo. They looked into each others eyes, but like the first time, there were no words. It was the only time that anyone could remember Mycroft Holmes being late for work.

 

 

The closing time for government buildings was long past that night when Maddy entered Mycroft's office. He was sitting behind his desk, and he simply stared at Maddy who was wearing a jean jacket and trousers with a backpack slung over her arm.

"Your security is pretty lax," she said. "I got in using your assistant's old card." She held the card up between her index and middle finger, and then placed it down on his desk.

"I saw you on the camera and buzzed you in," Mycroft said, his voice a monotone.

"You know why I'm here," she said, but Mycroft said nothing. Maddy reached into her backpack pulling out a velvet box. She placed it on the table. "The ring is yours. I hope that you don't mind but I'm keeping the necklace. You said it was mine."

"It is yours. Anything that you want is yours."

"Except you."

"That too," he said in a whisper his eyes downcast.

"You know it's right, and I know it's right. What else is there to be said? Oh, there is one thing. I want you to promise me. No surveillance. No men following me around, no cameras turning to see what I'm doing, no tracing my credit card receipts. I want you to let me go, to let me be free. Can you do that for me, Mycroft, please?"

"But I want you to be safe. I don't want you to have to go back to living on the streets."

Maddy smiled at him. "That won't ever happen again, thanks to you, I have my confidence back, and prospects for the first time in my life. You know that I will always love you, Mycroft." They locked eyes for a moment, and then she turned her face away. "Well, it's been real," she said and walked to the door.

"Madeline!" he cried. She turned back toward him. For a moment he stared as if he had lost his train of thought. Then he said, "You know where to find me."

Maddy held up her phone and smiled. She put it back into her pocket. "Goodbye Mycroft Holmes," she said.

"Goodbye Madeline St. Martin," Mycroft said teasing a smile from the edge of his lips that quickly vanished. She walked out, and the door shut behind her.

 

 

The next morning she was waiting at the station for a coach to take her to Manchester. Maddy had called Suzanna from John's house, and she had invited her to stay as long as she needed to get herself situated. She stood before the mirror in the coach station bathroom looking at the time on her phone. Then she opened the cap and stared at the blue line on the pregnancy tester. Four months she had been with Mycroft, and she hadn't had a period in all that time.

She tossed the box and the tester into the trash and went outside. The air was chill but fresh. She looked up at the sky, white with clouds and smiled. It was good to be free again. She thought of John. Sherlock had asked her to follow him as long as she could. Well, she was sorry, but she'd have to do it by phone now.

The cooking school had forwarded her application to their sister branch in Manchester, and with her apprenticeship papers and letters of recommendation from Mrs. Jones, the dean of the school, and a respected military doctor, she was a shoe in.

The necklace had sold for a bundle. She had enough money to pay for her schooling, and still have some for the baby's college fund. She had decided. If it was a boy, she'd name it Abud. If it was a girl, Eliza Mohammad. Eliza had been her mother's name.

Maddy looked up. She could see a camera pointed toward her. She stared into it as if she was looking into Mycroft's eyes. Despite his promise, he was probably watching. How could he help it? She blew him a kiss just as the bus arrived.

She was leaving London with so much more than she had arrived with. Abud had always been so careful with birth control. He was terrified of raising a child on the street. Mycroft on the other hand had been clueless that first night. He was able to predict, with intricate detail, policy decisions a thousand miles away, but he had been unable to predict the possibility of having a woman in his bed.

She hoped that the child's name would confuse matters. Make Mycroft less likely to interfere. She put her hands on her stomach and smiled. She may have lost Sherlock, she may have lost Mycroft, but God help anyone who tried to take this Holmes away from her.

**Author's Note:**

> Maddy St. Martin is a character who sprang up out of the ether one day when I was thinking about Sherlock and the Homeless Network. It seemed a bit cruel the way he used them, giving them pocket change to act as his agents, and I wanted to explore that. But as I wrote about Maddy, I realized that of all of the characters in the Sherlock Holmes stories, Sherlock was the only one who even saw these people as people. John never noticed them, and to Mycroft Holmes they were totally outside of his sphere.
> 
> Sherlock may have been self-interested in his use of them, but no more self-interested than in his use of Anderson, or John even when he asked him to take his phone out of his pocket for him. To Maddy, a man who sees her, who gives her a phone and a job no matter how small could be seen as a savior in a cold world where most people pretend that she doesn't exist.
> 
> And at the end of Reichenbach, when Sherlock is officially dead, it seemed to me that the only people that he could talk to were the forgotten ones, so I had him talk to Maddy and ask her to do impossible things like help others. This was impossible for her, because she knew that she had nothing to give.
> 
> Despite a certain passivity, a tendency to cry, and a fuse that blew up on occasion, Maddy turned out to be a pretty good girl. As a parent, she'll have lots of problems, not the least of which is that she is not a genius, but all in all I think that she'll do okay.
> 
> As for the romance between Maddy and Mycroft, Mycroft is at the prime of his career and he needs his concentration. Also Maddy was already starting to chafe at Mycroft's controlling nature. Besides, when I think of Mycroft as a parent...frankly it's a bit scary. I begin to understand why Sherlock is so angry with him.
> 
> I do believe, however, that in the future when he has a few more gray hairs, and he spends as much time at the Diogenes club as he does at work, then he might think of getting back together with Maddy.
> 
> Maddy will have her hands full all of the time that little Eliza Mohammed (yes, it's a girl) is a child, but after she goes to university. (Something that may happen much quicker for her than other youth being that she is Sherlock's niece.) I can see how she might find him again. One day, after she opens her own restaurant. (He does love a good meal after all.) They might rekindle those old flames and realize that they share a love of fine food, sex, and tradition. But that won't happen until they both get enough perspective to stop worrying about what other people think, and realize how well suited they are for each other.
> 
> The fact that Mycroft's mother accepted Maddy so easily even though she was so recently homeless and is so much less educated than her fiancee can be attributed to the fact that only a confirmed bachelor or a very young woman could NOT notice what it means to have no period for four months. Rule one for any mother who wants grandchildren is sit back and don't rock the boat.
> 
> And although Mycroft may have doubts, "Grandma" Holmes has probably already written the child into her will. I have no doubt that a silver heirloom rattle with show up mysteriously in the mail in a few months.
> 
> Maddy took over a good part of my mind for quite a while, but now she seems to be content. She's busy with her cooking classes and planning a nursery. I think that Suzanna will move in with her and help out with the baby. I do feel a little guilty about stealing the Holmes genetic legacy, but we can't leave it to people like Sherlock and Mycroft can we? The Holmes genes would die out!
> 
> If I were to write another Maddy story, it would be called Mother Maddy and it would be about the problems of raising a genius kid. Such a story would be so OC, however, with no regular series characters making an appearance, that I just can't see it succeeding here at FF.
> 
> It might be possible after series three starts and we find out what Sherlock has been doing and for how long. Mycroft may be cowed by Maddy and her naming scheme, but I think it will take less than five minutes for Sherlock to figure out who the father of her baby really is. And wouldn't that be fun to see? Sherlock chiding Mycroft for kidnapping his operatives and getting them pregnant. Oh the shame! I'm laughing already.
> 
> I think that Eliza will grow up to be quite a character. Right now I envision her as being very similar to "Souffle Girl" from Season 7 episode 1 of Doctor Who. A genius who thinks that she should also be good at cooking. Hopefully, she won't share the same fate.
> 
> All in all, I enjoyed writing these stories, and I hope to have a chance one day to revisit these characters in the future.  
>  **p.s. The story continues in Mother Maddy**


End file.
